Don't Blink
by Celtic Girl08
Summary: Naley are going on the honeymoon they never had. Brooke is watching Jamie for over a week, and Lucas is helping. When he rediscovers the girl he fell in love with four years ago, what will happen? Brucas, Naley, others later.
1. Chapter 1

Brooke sat alone in Clothes Over Bros, browsing through some pictures she had actually printed out a while ago. Then the bell over the door rang and Brooke looked up to see Peyton.

"Hey, P. Sawyer, whatcha doing?" The blonde seemed to be especially happy today; even her yellow curls bounced cheerfully on her head, complementing her bright smile and wide green eyes.

"Nothing much B. Davis," Peyton announced, jumping into the seat next to Brooke with a energy that suggested entirely the opposite of nothing much. Brooke commented on this. Peyton rolled her eyes.

"Peyton, really! What's up with you?" Brooke bumped her friend playfully, and Peyton heaved a fake sigh.

"Alright, _fine. _You know how Lucas and Lindsey officially, mutually ended it last week -- finally, I must add, I mean it's been three months of his pining for her after their almost wedding, I think it's about time-"

Brooke bit her tongue at this comment, and decided not say anything. Instead, she gave Peyton a devious look. "Are you thinking about getting with Mr. Scott?" she said in mock surprise.

Peyton gave a half sheepish, half suggestive nod, then cracked a crafty smile that was probably more commonly found on Brooke's face.

"Well, go get him, P. Sawyer!" Peyton laughed and took off out of the store. Brooke watched her leave, then returned to her pictures, going through them somewhat slower.

It was not ten minutes later when the bell rang again. When Brooke looked up, this time she was greeted by Haley James Scott, tutor mother.

"Haley, hey, how are you?" Brooke rose to meet her, receiving Haley in a big hug. "I've barely seen you since the wedding. Well, almost wedding," Brooke said, lowering her voice slightly at the last as if she was afraid of offending someone in the empty store.

"Oh I know, I'm sorry, Brooke. It's just been really busy, with Nathan and Jamie, and work, but that's no excuse," Haley apologized.

"What's up with Nathan and Jamie?" Brooke asked, concerned. Haley had told Brooke at the wedding of her and Nathan's fight; that Nathan wasn't even living at home. But other than that, Brooke hadn't heard anything else.

"Well, Nathan has moved back in, and I'm happy about that, especially with Jamie. In fact, Jamie tried to throw a party for Nate when he moved back in," Haley laughed, "But really, it's been good."

Haley seemed truthful, but Brooke detected a sour note in her voice. "Haley, what's really wrong?" Haley tried to smile, but Brooke gave her one of her famous looks, and Haley sighed, defeated.

"I don't know. I feel kinda reluctant about Nathan. I'm just not sure. We don't even really have time to work out all our problems; we just have to keep going and going to keep everything under control and act like everything is ok, when it's really not. I just don't know when we'll be able to handle all of this." She sighed, and picked up a picture. "But I don't want to talk about it." Haley examined the picture. "Where is this? It's beautiful…" Her voice had a faraway tone to it.

"It's London. I stopped over there for a while in the summer." Brooke looked more closely at the picture. It was of her standing on a lit bridge, backed by a dark sky and the glimmer of huge city lights.

Haley kept her eyes closed, daydreaming. "London," she said, as if tasting the word on her tongue, and letting it roll off smoothly. "I bet it was beautiful." When Brooke nodded, Haley continued. "It's where Nathan and I were supposed to go on our honeymoon, but then there was that accident…and life just got in the way. And now--"

Just then the bell tinkled again, and Nathan came in.

"Speak of the devil-no wait, it's just Nathan," Brooke gave him a fake sneer, and Nathan returned it beofe smiling and greeting Brooke.

"Hi, Nathan. I thought you were watching Jamie?" Haley's voice had a slight but sudden panic to it. Nathan nodded, gesturing to the car.

"I brought him with me," he said, "We were just out cruising and Jamie wanted to see Auntie Brooke." He nodded at Brooke, "And I wanted to see you."

Haley smiled, and Brooke asked Nathan to go get Jamie. As soon as he was gone, Brooke turned to Haley.

"I've got the best idea!" the previous sadness Haley had seen in Brooke's eyes when Haley had walked in was gone now, replaced with excitement.

"What is it, Tigger?" Haley asked with a laugh.

"You guys can go to London! Leave Jamie here, and you can go on the honeymoon you never had and work out all your problems!"

For a brief second, Brooke saw the light shining in Haley's eyes, but it was almost instantly extinguished by her rationale.

"Brooke, we can't just pick up and go to London. What about Jamie, and work, and Nathan's helping with the team, and it's just not a good time."

Brooke waved it all aside with an impatient look. "Screw school. I was there about half the time, and look at me now!" She waved her arms around the shop, and Haley laughed. "But really, I'm sure you can take a week or two off. And the team is fine with Lucas and Skills."

Haley conceded those two, but the said, "And Jamie? I don't exactly feel comfortable hiring another Nanny…" Brooke thought for a moment, then brightened.

"I can watch Jamie! C'mon, I really want to bond with him and I am his godmother…" As she said this, Nathan walked in, leading Jamie. He instantly ran over and hugged Brooke.

"What's she talking about, 'I can watch Jamie'?" Nathan asked, sitting next to Haley as she watched Brooke get up to play with Jamie in the back of the store.

"Oh, it's--"

"Nate, how would you feel about going to London for a week and a half?" Brooke yelled from the back. Nathan gave Haley a surprised but happy look.

"I think it's a great idea, Hales." Brooke's head appeared briefly from behind the counter. She stuck her tongue out at Haley before ducking again.

"Look, you two, I can watch Jamie for the week. You guys need this, and I would love to hang out with this one." She lifted up a madly giggling Jamie by one leg. "Plus, I think that if you guys can't work this out, what hope is there for the rest of us?" she added on a more serious note.

Nathan raised an eyebrow at Haley and cocked his head. "C'mon Hales, she's his godmother, and probably the best for the job. If we can't leave him with her, how are we ever going to leave him with anyone?" Nathan could be persuasive when he wanted to, and he could see Haley seriously considering it. "C'mon, Hales. We need this." When she didn't say anything, he added, "I'll ask Lucas to drop in on them every once in a while." This seemed to cement Haley's decision.

"Ok, we'll, do it!" She raised her voice so that Brooke could hear. She popped out from behind the counter as if on cue.

"Oh, I know you will," she said with a strong hint of suggestiveness. Nathan laughed at her double meaning but Haley rolled her eyes.

"C'mon Jamie, let's go." Haley called, standing up and heading for the door. The kid gave Brooke a quick hug and goodbye, and took off after his parents.

Peyton had tried unsuccessfully all day to find Lucas: He wasn't at his house, nor Nathan and Haley's. She drove to the rivercourt, only to miss him again. She was about to give up hope when she happened to see a tall blonde figure duck into a restaurant.

Peyton was excited. Here was her chance; a softly lit restaurant, a loose, low-cut shirt paired with her best pair of skinny jeans and strappy heels. She walked across the parking lot confidently, slowing only to check her reflection in the side view mirror of a car.

She finally got inside, and quickly, almost nervously scanned the room. She saw Lucas sitting alone in the corner, accepting a menu from a too-fancy waiter. The waiter bowed away as Peyton made her way across the room and came up behind Lucas.

"Guess who?" She laughed, jokingly putting her hands over his eyes.

"Ohhh, Peyton, hi, what a surprise. W-what are you doing here?" Lucas asked, slightly surprised, but he invited her to sit down.

"Just happened to see you go in, and since I haven't seen you for a while, I thought I'd say hi. How've you been?" They both knew she wasn't talking about his well-being in general.

"It's going good. I miss Lindsay, but something wasn't right about that relationship. We're better off as friends."

"And- how's the book going?" Peyton tried to sound nonchalant, but she was unsure if she succeeded or not.

"It's doing well, Lindsey decided to publish it, so we're in that process right now." He seemed to specifically steer away from the 'Comet' aspect of it, and Peyton didn't push it.

They enjoyed dinner for the rest of the night, talking and laughing about old times. Peyton tried not to notice that Lucas avoided talk of relationships. He'd always change the subject, with a suggestion of food or questions of any new music that she had heard lately. The night ended with an awkward hug and cheery goodbye. As Peyton walked back across the parking lot, she had to concentrate on walking with a poised, pretty strut, as she knew Lucas's eyes would be on her. She had to resist the temptation to give into the swooping feelings of giddiness that were almost forcing her to jump into the air. When she got to her car and turned back, though, Lucas was no where to be seen. His car was already peeling out of the parking lot.


	2. Chapter 2

_KNOCK KNOCK._

It came loud and abrasively, wrenching Lucas from his dreams. But before he could even groan and think about getting back to sleep, the knocking came again.

_KNOCK KNOCK._

What had his dreams been last night? He remembered they were particularly good. There was someone, a person who was weaving in and out of his vision, and he was holding on to something, a rope of some sort. There were times when he didn't realize he was holding, and during those times he would slip. But whenever he looked closely, he became conscious of it, and he'd be able to climb several feet up the rope, towards the blurry figure. There was some part of him that knew that if he ever lost that rope, or let go, he would lose the person above him. That might not sound good to most people, but to him, the person had a rare exoticness, and perfection that just made him happy being within its range. He knew that if he could climb that rope, up to the person, how much better his life would get…

_KNOCK KNOCK._

And with that, all memories of his unconscious adventures were gone, slipping away like water in a through his hands.

"Alright, who is it?" Lucas groaned, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes. "Nathan, what time is it?" Lucas poked his head outside, hoping the sun would impart the time of day to him.

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Uhh, Lucas it's almost eleven. Did you just wake up?"Nathan peered into the room at the rumpled bedcovers.

"Yeah," Lucas said, turning and walking into the kitchen while Nathan followed behind.

"Late night?" Nathan asked curiously, all though Lucas could have sworn he had a suggestive tone.

"Nah, not like that. I ate dinner with Peyton, but I wasn't planning on it. I didn't even really want to, but she just sat down, so I was cordial enough." Lucas opened the fridge and pulled out two sports drinks.

"Oh," was all Nathan said thoughtfully, taking the drink Lucas was holding out to him. "And how was that?"

"Awkward. She kept asking me questions about relationships, she wasn't even being subtle. I don't want to deal with Peyton right now; it's almost been as if she's circling, waiting until Lindsey left me with an open wound. Now Peyton comes in for the kill." He made a violent slashing movement with one hand before taking a swig of the drink. Nathan laughed, but didn't offer any input. Lucas continued, "I just don't want Peyton. She always ruins everything… But you didn't come over here to hear about my problems. What did you need?"

"Well, Brooke came up with this crazy idea, that me and Haley--"

"Haley and I," Lucas interrupted with a cough. Nathan cocked his head and gave Lucas a sarcastic smile.

"Thanks, Haley. Anyways, Brooke thought _Haley and I _should take the honey moon we never had: we go to London for a week-and-a- half, Brooke stays at the house and watches Jamie."

Lucas laughed. "Brooke and her crazy ideas. But, this one actually sounds good. What did you need me for again?"

"Well," Nathan sighed, "we love Brooke, and we know she's great with Jamie, except there are two problems. One, we are still nervous about the whole Carrie thing. And two, Jamie is a lot to handle. Brooke--"

"You want me to check in on them every once in a while?" Lucas offered, skipping straight to Nathan's question.

"Yeah, can you? Haley would feel so much better about it, even though she trusts Brooke with her life."

"Don't worry, I'll be there. And, about the Carrie thing, I know Brooke would be trying so hard she wouldn't let Jamie out of her sight for a second. And I know personally that if she ever saw Carrie, Brooke would punch her. She told me she wanted to." Lucas laughed again, thinking of Brooke and her quirky attitude and mesmerizing personality.

"Yeah, we know that deep down. But, Haley always says, 'Luck favors those who are prepared!' What a stupid saying. If luck favored anyone, there would be no dying. Luck is Luck. But back to the point; can you come by tonight, for Haley? We're leaving tomorrow night, so she wants to talk to you."

Lucas nodded and Nathan stood up. "I'll be there. Does Brooke know about this little arrangement, me checking up occasionally?"

"Yeah, Haley is going to tell her tonight. Thanks for the drink, man." Nathan turned and jogged out of the front door.

The day progressed slowly. Brooke tended an unusually busy Clothes Over Bros, Peyton tried to find a new artist for her label, and Haley, Nathan and Jamie busied themselves with preparation for the trip. A few hours after Nathan left, Lucas finally turned off the TV, deciding to go for a run.

He jogged around the town, consumed with his own thoughts. Which was strange, because he didn't really have anything particularly important to think about. Well, there was the book, which was almost done with the first stage of editing. And with the book came Lindsay. They had broken up because of she thought Lucas didn't love her fully, because Lindsay thought he was in love with Peyton. _Always Peyton,_ he thought suddenly, randomly. But however random it had crossed his mind, it was true. Peyton had caused Lindsay's uneasiness, and then she read too much into the book and left. It was Peyton's fault. _And Brooke,_ he thought, _Peyton caused me to lose Brooke_. Now that was a really random idea. Brooke had never given him a real reason for their break-up, but he suspected it had something to do with Peyton.

As Luke neared his house, he admired the scenery to get his mind off things. It didn't work.

"_Every time I look at something in Tree Hill it's probably the last time so I feel like I have to take mental pictures of everything."_

"_Well, make sure you make me look good when you take my picture."_

"_So, what are you going to miss most about me?"_

"_I can only pick one thing?"_

"_Yes. And it has to be something good, not like how much you'll miss hanging out with me, or how hot I am."_

"_Hm… neither one of those, huh?"_

"_No!"_

"_Damn." He considered her for a moment. "I'll miss the girl behind the red door."_

_She cocked her head at this comment. She thought he was teasing her. He bowed her through his newly painted red door, and she looked around his room wondrously._

"_This is all my stuff, I don't understand."_

"_I had my mom talk to your parents, and they said you could stay until the summer. They didn't want to, Brooke, but my mom can be very persuasive." _

"_You did this for me?"_

"_I wasn't ready to lose you yet." She looked at him, and something passed between their gazes. "So, are you going to stay or what?"_

"_Yes, of course," she half-laughed, half-cried, running to hug him. "I wasn't ready to be lost. Thank you."_

Lucas smiled at that memory as he came to his door. Resting to breathe, he thought about how much he had pined for Brooke before she left and how complete and happy that moment was when she agreed to stay. For a moment, that same feeling overwhelmed him, before he realized how late it was, and that he had to get to his Haley and Nathan's house.

"Hey, everybody," Brooke said, announcing her arrival. Nathan and Haley sat on the couch, and Brooke took a seat across from them as Jamie ran to play with his toys.

Brooke noted the awkwardness between Nathan and Haley, and she was glad that she had suggested the trip. It was just what the couple needed in such stressful times.

"Hi, Brooke. We just wanted to talk about this trip a little bit more."

Brooke nodded in excited anticipation.

"We would like you to babysit Jamie for the, you know, week and a half or so? You're pretty much the only person we feel comfortable with; Skills and the other guys we trust, but we don't want them to have to be so responsible for a week and a half. And Lucas has his book stuff, and we knew you would love to help." Haley spoke almost desperately; Nathan could tell that she had come to terms with this vacation and was now actually looking forward to it.

"Of course I will, Haley," Brooke said, "I'd love to spend time with Jamie. Will I be staying at the house?"

Haley nodded. "Whatever is good with you, Tigger."

"I'll just stay here, then. Do you know what Lucas is doing? Is he coming over at all?" Brooke sounded almost anxious.

"Well--" Nathan started, but Haley kicked him from under the coffee table where Brooke couldn't see.

"No, Lucas is going to stay at home and work on his book mostly. He may drop in here once or twice to see Jamie, but he hasn't said anything to me about it." Haley looked straight at Brooke, and talked as though nothing between her and Nathan had just happened.

Nathan looked at Haley, confused. Lucas was going to come over, once a day at least. He had no idea why Haley had lied to Brooke.

"Alright, then, I guess I'll go if that's all you needed me for," Brooke announced, standing up. Haley reached to give her a hug.

"Thank you, Tigger," she said, laughing at the old nickname.

A few minutes after Brooke's car had gone, Lucas's turned in.

"Hey, Haley, Nathan. What's up, Jamie?"

"Just playing with my toys," Jamie said simply. He had been told not to mention anything about Brooke being there.

"Cool," Lucas said, ruffling Jamie's hair before he sat down in the seat Brooke had vacated just five minutes earlier.

"First off, thank you, Luke," Haley said appreciatively. "I'm actually looking forward to this, and I wouldn't be if you weren't checking in every so often."

Lucas raised his eyebrows. "No problem, Hales, but you know Brooke is more than capable of doing this, right?"

"Yeah, and we really do trust her. We just want you to drop in every once in a while, to relieve her. The two of us combined can handle Jamie, but I don't know if it's possible for one person." Nathan laughed, only half joking.

"Ok, I agree," Lucas admitted. "I just drop in every day or so? Does Brooke know?"

Haley kicked Nathan under the table again, even though he hadn't even opened his mouth yet. _That's a sign you are really close with your wife, _Nathan thought. _When she knows when you're about to say something before you even say it._

"Yeah, Brooke knows. You can just walk in, but it would be best at night. That way Jamie will almost be asleep and easier to handle."

Lucas left a half hour later, after talking a bit more with Nathan and Haley and then discussing the basketball team, and how it was doing now that the playoffs were drawing near. Finally he left, much to the dismay of Jamie, who had wanted to play with Lucas some more.

"Oh, he left," Jamie said disappointedly, walking back and putting away his toys before bed.

Nathan followed Haley into the kitchen, whispering "What was that about, lying to Lucas and Brooke? What are you trying to do?"

Haley was putting some dishes away, averting her eyes, but whenever her face turned towards Nathan, he could see the secret, mischievous smile on her face. "What are you up to?" he asked, his slight irritation fading to interested curiosity.

She just shrugged and smiled again in response, not looking at him. It finally clicked.

"You're trying to put them together, aren't you?"

She finally looked up at him, and her new, innocent-on-the-surface-but-really-devious-underneath smile confirmed his guess.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey everybody, here is the next "installment", I guess would be the word. Today in my bio class I was having an overflow of Brucas love, so much so that I couldn't concentrate on the notes. So instead, I wrote a bit of this story. Luckily, though, we're learning about Ecology, which has got to be the easiest effing ting in the world.**

**Ok, enough of my ranting, here is the next part. Oh, and if anyone can spot the slight little reference to an early episode I put in here, well, you get a virtual pat on the back! But really, see if you can find it…**

"Hey, P. Sawyer, what's up?" Skills shouted across the court, jogging to grab the ball that had just floated through the hoop. Peyton was walking towards him on the old Rivercourt, and happy but determined smile on her face.

"How are you , Skills?" Peyton smiled warmly, but even Skills could tell there was something going on behind her sunny exterior.

"I asked you first, and you know I ain't talking about yo' general well-being."

The two walked to the bench and sat down, and Peyton laughed and leaned back in exasperation.

"I don't know what is going on with Lucas. He is so hot and cold sometimes, I just don't know."

"Well, P. Sawyer, I'm always looking out for my boy Luke, and I want to see him happy. If that's with you, then so be it. But I want to see you happy, too. Don't worry, Luke will come around. He'll find the one he's meant to be with," Skills assured her, giving her a pointed look at the last words.

"Yeah, ok," Peyton said with an uncommitted shrug. Skills considered her thoughtfully for a moment.

"P. Sawyer, who did Lucas write his book about? _Peyton Sawyer._ It's going to be fine. Just make sure he doesn't meet anyone named Bevin… she'll cheat with anyone…" His voice became suddenly bitter and he looked away.

"Hey, Skills, thank you. You have always believed in Lucas and me." Peyton stood up, nodding to him with a new, calm, confidence.

"Sawyer, just go get him. He's supposed to be at the airport today" Skills waved her away, and she went back to her newly washed Comet.

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Lucas ran his hands through his hair, then laughed at his habit. He had picked it up senior year, after countless meaningless fights with Brooke that were solved within minutes. Still, he couldn't forget how infuriating she had been, with her brazen opinions and crazy ideas. If she had a thought, she was going to fight it until it was heard, or better yet, agreed with. The habit had come out of his frustration of her 

particular trait. It was amusing to him now, and he still remembered how alive and real they made him feel.

He was slaving over his dedication of his newest book. Lindsey had asked him several days ago for the page, and Lucas had yet to think of one, let alone send it in. There were just so many implications of what he could write, regardless of what the book was actually about. If he wrote something about love, Lindsey would know her suspicions were verified, about him loving someone else. Plus, a love dedication or anything of the sort would confirm in many peoples minds that the book actually had a meaning deeper than what he had intended.

In the end he just decided to skip the entire thing, and go and see Haley and Nathan off. He needed to clear his mind.

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The drive to the airport was short, but Brooke was determined to make the half hour drive in ten minutes. She was eager to see Jamie and see the beginning of her "Naley Reunion" plan go into action. _After all, what hope do the rest of us have if there is no Haley and Nathan?_ In fact, for as long as she had known the tutor girl, Haley had always been with Nathan. Of course she had known Nate form his reputation, but Brooke had only really started to get to know him, the real Nathan Scott, after he had gotten married to Haley.

Brooke's subconscious mind had always associated her and Lucas's relationship with the Nathan and Haley relationship, in high school at least. Granted, Nathan and Haley had always been better than her and Lucas, but Brooke felt there were still small parallels. Brooke and Nathan were the ones headed down the wrong path, partying and getting drunk and laid every weekend. Then, Lucas and Haley had emerged onto the scene. Instantly, Brooke and Nathan had begun to change, for the better. Sure, they had some digressions, but mainly, Brooke and Nathan had been saved by Lucas and Haley.

For some reason, whirlwind thoughts that she couldn't even connect, thoughts of Jamie, Lucas, Nathan and Haley, Peyton, books, everything that had happened in the last few moths, consumed her for the rest of the ride, causing her to push her foot even harder to the pedal.

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When Lucas got to the airport, he was already a few minutes late. Hurrying forward to gate number 111, Lucas was just in time to see Brooke talking to a departing Nathan and Haley, with Jamie at her side.

He took a step forward, intending to call her name, but just then he heard a recognizable, "Lucas!" Turning, he saw Peyton running towards him, happy that she had accidentally run into him. "Accidentally."

Lucas decided to call her on it. "Hey, Peyt, what are you doing here?" He knew Nathan and Haley had gotten a hold of her to inform her of the trip, and Brooke had been too busy planning. Only Skills knew that Luke was going to the airport today.

_Damn,_ Peyton thought, _why didn't I come up with a lie? _Even if she had, though, Lucas would have seen right through it. He always had, just because they had such a connection. She decided to give it a try though.

"They said Derek might be coming home today. At least, that's what I heard. The real Derek, not Ian," she added quickly. She was pleased with herself over this lie, it wasn't even good; in fact, it was quite the opposite. She had lied intentionally so Lucas would call her on it, a sort of test for him.

"Oh, great, Peyton, is he getting in yet?" Lucas asked, trying to angle his vision over her shoulder to see if Nathan and Haley and Brooke had already gone, but no to no avail. He couldn't see them. "Say hi to him for me, ok?" With that, he patted her shoulder in a sort of 'Ok, that's enough, I have to go somewhere' patronizing sort of way. It wasn't that Lucas was intentionally blowing her off, he just wanted to see the group before they left.

"Yeah, Luke sure…" she said, disappointed. She began to notice his distracted demeanor, and she said, "Luke, are you alright?"

"What? Peyton, yeah I'm fine. Why are you here again?"

"I told, you, Derek--"

"No really, Peyton, did you talk to Skills?"

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Haley, Nathan, Brooke and Jamie were walking towards the departure gate, Nathan calm and enjoying himself, Jamie looking around the terminal at everything and everyone, Haley leaving instructions to Brooke, and Brooke mentally noting everything.

"Alright, you have our cell numbers, and Jamie should be fine, and all that," Haley said, as if casting around for something she had forgotten to inform Brooke of. "Ummm… Oh! I almost forgot, the microwave--"

"Hales, I'm sure Brooke can operate a microwave," said Nathan with a laugh. Haley glared at him, not really angry but more annoyed at herself for being so overprotective.

"Yeah, Haley, I'll be fine. And, I'm sure Jamie is mine and that Nathan doesn't love me, so we should have no problems," laughed Brooke, but Haley had to force a smile, and Brooke immediately realized she'd overstepped it. "Sorry, but really, if Carrie ever comes around, I swear I'll—"

Nathan quickly covered Brooke's mouth, which was forming around some very creative swear words about "that skank-assed little slut". Nathan gestured down to Jamie, and Brooke bit her tongue.

"Alright," said Haley, laughing a bit at Brooke as she bent down to say good-bye to Jamie. "You be good to Brooke, alright? And don't forget about our little arrangement…" Haley whispered this last part conspiratorially, and Jamie grinned and nodded. After a quick goodbye and hug from Nathan, Jamie and Brooke said good-bye to the couple as they walked across the asphault to the plane.

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"So, did you go ask Skills about me?" Lucas demanded.

Peyton sighed, but she was secretly happy he had caught her. "Yeah, I just wanted to see you. How about we go to dinner sometime and talk? The other night was really nice."

Lucas sighed, but this time in frustration. He had just seen Brooke and Jamie walking away from the gate, and they were already out of sight. For a moment he had internally smiled at Brooke's excited face, but Peyton brought him back to the present. "Really Peyton, right now I don't want anyone in my life like this. I don't need all of the drama that relationships between us bring." He dropped her hand, which she had entwined through his while asking him out. He knew that what he had said stung, but Lucas didn't want to deal with Peyton right now.

"Uh," stammered Peyton, taken aback, "O-ok, Luke, we can talk later." She watched him walk away with confused and bittersweet emotions roiling inside her, with occasional flashes of pain and hurt, like heat lightning in a summer storm.

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"Alright, Jamie, we are going to have so much fun this week," Brooke exclaimed, watching Jamie through her rear-view mirror as she sped away from the airport. Of course, she was going slow now that Jamie was with her. Lucas had always teased her about her driving: whenever she was angry or excited she drove very fast, reckless even, and whenever she was sad she seemed to move slowly and lethargically. This was true with almost everyone, but it was especially prevalent in Brooke.

"Yeah, sure," Jamie shrugged, watching planes leave the airport. Brooke's smile slipped off her face.

"Of course we are, bud. Tell you what, how about we stop for an ice cream?" Jamie's face immediately lit up.

"With two scoops?"

Brooke raised an eyebrow. "Of course! All growing boys need their share of ice cream! And especially when their Aunt Brooke is taking care of them for a week."

"Yes!" Jamie said excitedly, seeming to already forget his parent's departure.

_This next week is going to be very interesting, _said a little voice in the back of Brooke's head for some strange reason.

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By three pm, Jamie's excitement had worn off, even when Brooke offered to get him another ice cream. He just gave another lackluster shrug, instead staring into the heavens.

"Where'd my mom and dad go, Brooke?" he asked solemnly.

"They just went away for a little while, to London, for a break," Brooke said as she strapped him into the booster seat. They had just come from the park, and Brooke had decided on going home to get settled in.

"Why?" Jamie asked, looking up at her inquisitively. Brooke didn't think about her answer before she said it.

"They went to do grown-up things," she said, then immediately groaned and shut her eyes, all the while mentally smacking her forehead. Of course Jamie would ask, and Brooke knew the few grown-up things they would do, ones that Jamie wasn't exactly old enough to hear. Brooke didn't want to lie to him, plus she had never been good at lying unless she was dealing with her own feelings staying private.

"Like taxes?"

Brooke heaved a quiet sigh of relief from the front seat. Disaster avoided. "Yeah, like taxes…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Five hours later, Jamie had resumed his energy. After dinner, he had pulled out all the things he wanted to show Brooke, and then decided that they would look better strewn about the floor. Currently, he was racing through the house with his cape streaming behind him and a Superman action figure at his side. Brooke was desperately trying to clean up the toys, but no such luck. She couldn't even get Jamie to listen to her. It was perhaps one of the first times in her life that she was actually being a pushover.

She heard the door open through the loud screams of joy and peals of laughter, and relief washed over her as Lucas entered the room, a little shell-shocked.

"Brooke, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm ok, but I'm kinda stressing because he won't listen and it's like I'm in high school again, babysitting—"

"People actually left their kids to you? In_ high school?_" Lucas teased.

"Ha Ha, very funny," she sneered, "Actually, it only happened once. Now _that _was a disaster." Lucas laughed. "But really, Luke, can you help? You've known Jamie for longer than I have and…"

Brooke's defeated ramblings faded off as Jamie came tearing around the corner, cackling madly. Suddenly Lucas's arm shot out and grabbed him around the middle, and lifted him up so that Jamie was helpless in mid air. He was still giggling.

"Hi, Uncle Lucas!"

"Hey, Jamie," Lucas greeted him, a little surprised to be carrying a conversation with him in this position. "Listen, I've got a favor to ask you."

"Alright, what is it?" Brooke watched this exchanged, slightly awed by Lucas's sudden fatherly tone and caring yet firm voice.

"You see Brooke, over there?" Lucas asked, setting Jamie back on the floor and bending to eye level with him. Lucas whispered conspiratorially, because he knew that (1) Jamie would strain to hear him and stop yelling and (2) Jamie would feel very excited about having a secret talk. Lucas, however, knew that Brooke was listening as well and kept his voice just loud enough for her to hear.

As expected, it worked. Jamie looked to where Lucas was pointing, saw Brooke, and swiftly turned back to Lucas with a giggle. "Yeah."

"Well, Brooke is very close to me, and I want her to be happy. So, how about we make a deal? If you're good to Brooke and listen to everything she says, then I'll take you to the toy store and you can have whatever you want."

Jamie rolled his eyes towards Brooke, as if considering whether she was worth the deal. Then he looked back at Lucas. "Ok, but it has to be anything."

"Alright," Lucas smiled, holding out a fist for Jamie to pound. "It'll be our guy secret, ok?" Jamie nodded. "Now, I'm sure Aunty Brooke wants you to go get into some pajamas, so how about you go do that?"

As Jamie ran off, Lucas straightened and walked over to Brooke.

"You're so good with him," Brooke marveled, "You're good with all kids."

"Nah, I just know Jamie. I know how to get to him, you know?" Brooke nodded, and Lucas rubbed his hands together, casting around for a subject. "So, how's your first day of non-psycho nanniness?"

Brooke laughed, giving him a reluctant smile. "How do you know I'm not a psycho?"

Lucas looked thoughtfully forward, trying to imagine a psycho Brooke. "Yeah, that would be bad," He decided, nodding with a slight look of horror on his face.

"But anyways, thanks for checking in. Haley said you would come to see on Jamie."

"Yeah, I'll be here every so often, just to see him and everything else. Haley told me she told you."

"Yep," was all Brooke could think to say.

The silence stretched between them with each passing tick of the clock, thickening and spreading until it was almost a tangible entity that was pressing, suffocating them until one of them decided to breach the stifling blanket of uncomfortable peace.

"Anyways," Lucas said, with a feeble attempt. He moved slowly to the door. "I think Jamie will listen to you now. But if you need anything, just call. I'm here for you."

It didn't occur to Brooke how badly she needed to hear those words until much later. Until then, they were just dust in the wind, meaningless words that were exchanged between two friends. In fact, she didn't even acknowledge them, other than right as Lucas said them, until much later. But again, the little voice came.

_Yup, this week will _definitely_ get interesting…_


	4. Chapter 4

Cold air scraped the leaves across the dry grass where she was standing, each individual leaf sounding like the death rattle of a mans last breath. The wind wasn't the balmy, smooth, humid afternoon wind that she had grown used to in Tree Hill; no, instead it was a harsh and bitter wind, full of hate and anger and death. It seemed fitting, she thought, that this place had an angry, bitter atmosphere. But looking down, Karen saw the one thing that reminded her that this world had some good in it, that it was not just the cruel, unkind world that wrenched humans so thoughtlessly from life and flung them somewhere else, like it had with Keith.

Lily Roe stood holding her mother's leg, and Karen smiled sadly. Her usually outgoing and brave daughter had crumbled before Keith's grave, not understanding the full situation but knowing that she would never see her father. That was what hurt Karen the most. The thought that her beautiful daughter would never know her father, never feel his smile or see his face or echo his laughs on late nights. Keith had been unfairly torn from this world by the one person he trusted the most, even if he didn't show it.

"Karen." She recognized the voice instantly. It had a rough, gravelly tone but still betrayed a hint of the sly, cunning man Dan had once been.

Karen didn't even turn around, but protectively pushed Lily behind her, shielding her from Dan. "Leave, Dan. You've no business here."

"Just paying my respects."

Karen turned at this, her tortured face showing signs of controlled fury. "You don't deserve to be here. You wouldn't even be paying respects if Keith were still alive, you bastard. Stay the hell away from us."

Dan looked off to side, angling his head away, as if he had been slapped. But his face still turned back, displaying that scheming look that Karen had been so accustomed to.

"Us?" He leaned down to Lily, who was peering out from behind her mother's legs. "Hi," Dan said, adopting a child-appropriate voice, "I'm your Uncle Dan. What's your name?"

Karen put a hand protectively in front of Lily, but to no avail. Lily just peeked out once more and told Dan somewhat meekly, "I'm Lily."

Dan, satisfied, straightened up to meet Karen's face. Looking her straight in the eye, he said, "Well, Lily, won't we have so much fun…" Karen grabbed Lily's hand.

"Let's go, Lily, come on." Lily didn't object, and allowed herself to be led back to the car. She stole one glance back at Dan, who just smiled and waved.

"Bye Lily," he said softly.

Mouth wandered about the rooms of the news room, idly looking for something to do. He passed the small booth where he and Millicent had first watched the Russian Ballet, essentially their first date. They had been together ever since. Just the thought of that day made Mouth smile, made the dark workplace brighten a little. He could even hear her voice—

"Marvin?"

"Yeah, Mill?" Mouth said, sweetly carrying on a conversation with day-dream Millicent.

"Marvin?"

"What is it?" Mouth's eyes were closed in bliss.

"MOUTH!"

End of bliss.

"Look, sir, I'm really sorry, I was just day-dreaming!" Mouth futilely followed his angry boss around. While Mouth had been dreaming, his boss had been demanding Mouth get them the necessary papers for the sports newscast today, as well as the tapes.

"Slacking is not tolerated here, especially when you are calling me Milli!"

Mouth had a surprisingly difficult time suppressing a grin at that comment, but thankfully the boss was searching around in his desk. "Look, Sir, I was just—"

"Mouth, sorry to interrupt, but who was the most recently drafted into college high school player around here?"

Mouth didn't even turn around before he told the guy, "Nathan Scott, to Maryland college after being accepted into Carolina State from Tree Hill High." Mouth's answer was automatic and monotone, as if it required little thought. The man nodded and scrambled out of the room. The boss looked up at Mouth from his chair.

"Son, how did you know that automatically?"

Mouth shrugged. "I just did. One, Nate went to my high school, and I also keep up with most college sports."

"And, you announced at your high school, right?"

"Yep."

The boss looked at Mouth with newfound… admiration, wonder, curiosity? Mouth decided to go with the last one. The boss definitely looked interested in something.

_Hey, bitch, I sent you money back; How come you don't return my calls? Unless you are hooking up with hot bartender, or Lucas, or the new guy of the week. Definitely don't call me then… See ya, skank!_

Brooke smiled at the message and saved it. She hadn't seen or talked to Rachel in over four months, not since Victoria had kicked Rachel out.

It was almost dark, and Brooke was laying on the chaise lounge watching Jamie swim. It had been a bit of a challenge getting him into the pool, but he finally jumped in on the second day of Brooke's babysitting stint, and he had yet to get out.

"Hey, Jamie, how about we get out now and have something to eat? Maybe we can call your Aunt Peyton!"

Once inside, Brooke was on her way to call Peyton, who she hadn't seen since Monday, and it was now Wednesday. But as she got near the phone, it started ringing.

"I got it!" Jamie called from the kitchen, grabbing the extension. "Hi," he said, and continued to supplement the conversation with more monosyllable answers. "Good…no…yes. You should!" After saying a quick good-bye, Brooke watched him hang up the receiver.

"Who was that?"

Jamie froze. "Uhh, Uncle Lucas,"

"Really. What did he say?"

"He just asked how I was doing, and if I had picked out my toy yet from the toy store, and then whether he should take me to the store tomorrow to give you a break." Jamie shrugged and walked very stiffly to the stairs before running up them as fast as he could.

_Well that was weird, but ok. Lucas is so sweet for checking in,_ Brooke thought as she prepared dinner.

Lucas clicked his iPhone off, ending the call with Jamie, laughing about Jamie's quick, strange answers. But then again, they weren't that strange for a four-year old.

"_Hey Jamie, how are you?"_

"_Good."_

"_Are you being good?"_

"_No," he had giggled._

"_Really? Do I have to come over there and teach you a lesson?" Lucas said this last part as gruffly as he could._

_This is where Lucas was surprised. Jamie, who usually recognized that Lucas was just kidding, said, "Yes. You should!"_

_And after a few more exchanges that didn't concern anything in particular, Lucas ended the call with an ,"Ok, I'm going to come over right before bed and follow up on that since you weren't good. See you later Jamie."_

"_Bye Uncle Lucas!"_

Not three seconds after Lucas sat down to eat before checking Brooke and Jamie, his phone started ringing again. He listened to a few lines of his favorite Dashboard Confessional song before picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Luke, what's up?" Peyton's voice came burbling over the line.

"Hey, Peyt, how are you?" Lucas felt genuinely sorry about the airport incident, and he was trying to be nicer.

"Nothing much, I'm doing well. I just wanted to call and see if you were doing anything tonight…"

Lucas glanced at his watch. 6:45. "Actually, Peyton, I was going over to see Jamie and Brooke tonight. But I'll come see you tomorrow, maybe we can hang out," he offered pleasantly after hearing the disappointment in her voice.

"Alright," Peyton sighed, falling back onto her bed. Lucas had just declined her invitation to have dinner with her. Staring in the mirror as they said good-bye, Peyton began changing out of the fancy new top she had bought for tonight, and instead threw on an old pair of sweats and a tank-top, resigning herself to a lonely night.

For a few minutes after the call, Peyton replayed it. He had said something about meeting Brooke and Jamie, she hadn't really been paying attention. _So much for Brooke "Not having feelings for him",_ Peyton told herself bitterly as she dug into a carton of ice cream. She'd have to talk to Brooke.

"Ok, McFadden, you've got the 7'oclock shift for sports," came his boss's clear-cut voice. Mouth jumped up. He hadn't been sleeping, but now he felt like it because the state he had been in before that announcement had put mouth into such a state of alertness that any form of sleep seemed impossible.

"R-really? Thank you," Mouth stammered, shaking the boss's hand in a state of disbelief.

The newscast was due to start in ten minutes, so Mouth immediately ran off to prepare a short report in addition to the teleprompter, as requested by his boss.

"In conclusion, we have the Celtic FC vs. Manchester United soccer in the UEFA Cup, with the Boston Celtic and San Antonio Spurs home for the NBA championship," Mouth said to himself as he typed.

"Mouth, five minutes!"

"Alright, alright!" Mouth quickly finished his report and printed it, before make-up swarmed him.

"Three minutes till we're live!"

Mouth rushed from make-up as soon as they many women released him. Smoothing his shirt, he nervously made his way to the director.

"Alright, son, we'll be up in the booth, you know the drill, read off the teleprompter, your report, whatever. Just keep it interesting and don't screw up!"

Before he even knew that time had passed, Mouth was seated at the desk, anxiously strumming his fingers on the desk, waiting for the anchor to finish. That is, he was strumming his fingers until he looked up into the booth, where they were all waving at him and motioning for him to stop. Mouth realized that the microphone was picking up almost every sound he was making, and the drumming probably sounded like a thunderstorm.

That was when the nervousness hit him. Somehow, the thought that everything he did, every movement, every mistake would be totally recorded and played to a huge audience, somehow that thought worked it's way into his head and overwhelmed everything else.

"And now we have Marvin McFadden with sports. Marvin?"

Mouth cleared his throat, which had suddenly become dry. "Well, uh, we have… Oh, thank you, Jack. In local news, we have the Tree Hill Ravens without their star player. Q, I mean, Uh, Quentin, Quentin Fields has broken his hand, leaving the Ravens without a shooting guard. In his recent, well, since he hurt his hand, the team, the Raven's have dropped several, uh, p-p-places, and uh—" Mouth looked upwards, and the tenseness within him grew. The several people in the booth were all shaking their heads, and Mouth could see words forming on his boss's lips. _Cut it, switch back to Jack ASAP._

"Uh, we also have the—" Just then the studio door opened.

Millicent came walking in, a genuine smile on her face. Mouth had called her while typing his report, and she had said that she would be there as soon as she could. His stomach twisted when he saw her, but in the good way. Noticing that Mouth was looking at her, Millicent smiled and waved, giving him the thumbs up. Mouth's breath caught in his chest as he turned back to the teleprompter.

"We also have many local colleges scouting their incoming players, as well as NBA teams scouting player's for their respective teams for the 2012 season. In fact, the NBa championships are coming up, a battle between the San Antonia Spurs and Boston Celtic. Going international, we have the UEFA cup this weekend, and it will be a great showing between to of Europe's great teams, the _Glasgow_ Celtic FC (no relation to the Boston Celtic) and Manchester United. Back to you, Jack."

Mouth looked away from the teleprompter, ignoring the men in the booth and instead turning to Millicent when he was sure the camera was no longer on him.

_Thank you,_ he mouthed.

"Jamie, let's go, it's time for bed," said Brooke, switching off the news and turning to Jamie who was drawing at the table. "Whatcha drawing?"

"Nothing," Jamie told her covering the art with his arm. "You can't see it. It's not finished yet."

"Well, you're going to have to finish it tomorrow, because you gotta go to bed. It's almost nine."

Jamie looked up at her with innocent eyes. "Promise you won't look?"

Brooke sat down on her heels to get eye-level with Jamie. "How about you go hide it somewhere, and I won't look for it. Then you can go put on your PJ's and we can talk for a while." She didn't know what prompted her to say that, but Brooke felt that it would be interesting to talk to her godson.

"OK, but don't look where I hide it!" Jamie jumped off the chair and ran off, drawing in hand as Brooke put the markers away. She sat down at the table, looking around the big, empty house. It was cold, but it seemed…different…without Nathan and Haley. Unfamiliar. Alien. She was beginning to miss them, and it seemed the less Jamie thought about his parents, the more Brooke did. It wasn't as if she was lonely without them, everything just felt different. Was she regretting sending them on vacation? No. Was she going to call them to come home, or even just to talk to them? Definitely not on the first one, and she would only interrupt them if Jamie wanted to call.

"Brooke, I hid it and I'm getting my pajamas on now!" called Jamie from his bedroom. Brooke smiled, thinking of the sweet and innocent boy upstairs. He was just like Lucas was when Brooke first met him; Lucas had been sweet, genuine, and naïve to the charms of Brooke and the world of the popular. _That is, until I corrupted him,_ Brooke thought with a grin that she hadn't felt grace her face for a long time, the famous Brooke Penelope Davis smirk.

"Ok, Jamie, I'm coming up!" She found Jamie already sitting on his bed, under the covers.

"What story are you going to tell me?"

Brooke froze. Story? She was supposed to tell him a story? Where was that in the job application? "Uh, how about we just— talk?"

"Ok, Aunt Brooke."

It was over an hour later when Jamie's eyelids began to droop. An hour of questions about high school, which Brooke had mainly avoided; questions about C/B, which she gladly answered, and other random questions. She answered with questions about his school life, and his favorite things. Somehow, they had gotten into a lengthy discussion about Chester. By then it was ten o'clock, and Brooke made to quietly exit the room as Jamie was falling asleep. But Jamie voiced one last question.

Lucas opened the door quietly with the key that was always under the mat. He knew Jamie must be in bed by now, and he just wanted to see Brooke to see how everything was going. "Brooke?" He spoke gently into the soft, inviting darkness of the first floor. "Brooke?" the darkness seemed a separate entity, a living, breathing being that reminded him of his dream… he was climbing the rope, getting closer. Closer? That was a new feeling… or maybe one he just hadn't experienced in a long time…

He padded silently up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. He felt that he needed to be noiseless for more than just the fact that Jamie was sleeping. Something… he got to the corner, right 

before the open door of Jamie's room, listening in on their conversation after he heard a particularly interesting question.

"Brooke, what happened to Owen?"

Jamie was suddenly awake. Not alert, just awake, and not nearing a form of sleep. Brooke heaved a small mental sigh, though not entirely out of frustration. She didn't want to talk about this, not right now.

But she knew he probably wouldn't drop it unless she explained at least part of it to him.

"Well, Owen and I— we didn't work out," Brooke tried to leave it at that, but Jamie's curiosity got the best of him.

"Why not?"

Broke busied herself with something on Jamie's dresser, trying to avoid the question. She didn't like sharing this side of herself, the side that could be so easily exploited and attacked. Even if it was just Jamie, it was a default reaction to any sort of revealing conversation. Either avoiding the question, or making a joke, or flat out lying. It was almost involuntary, Brooke had done it so much.

But she couldn't lie to Jamie.

"We just— he wasn't – couldn't be— the man I would always be in love with…" Brooke seemed to say this to herself, more of a realization than a comment.

"Who do you love?"

It is the innocence of children that seem to bring out the best in us. Their trusting, their loyalty, their wide, adoring eyes. It is this that adults so often crumble at, spilling their thoughts and feelings as if under the influence of drink. Children have that quality that so many strive for, but are never able to achieve, unable to imagine youth in its purest form once they are past the age. It is those who can feel this emotion that are truly whole.

It was a quote Lucas had once showed her from a book, and Brooke thought it strange that the thought was coming back to her now.

"Brooke, who is it?" Jamie asked again, leaning in, and for a second Brooke was pleasantly reminded of high school, someone leaning in for the next piece of gossip.

"Jamie—"

Outside Lucas leaned in as well. He knew Brooke usually concealed her feelings, but to the extent of liking—loving— someone and no one else knowing about it, that was what was strange to Lucas. He had always known Brooke to be straightforward.

"Jamie, I—" But the sight of those innocent eyes made Brooke melt. _Spilling their thoughts and feeling as if under the influence of drink, right?_ Brooke thought. "You can't tell anyone, alright?" Brooke felt strange confiding in a four-year old, but it felt good somehow to release all of this.

"I promise," said Jamie, holding up his pinkie. Brooke smiled and hooked her pinkie around his.

Brooke heaved another sigh and a faraway look came over her eyes. "It's your uncle. It's Lucas Scott…"

Lucas's breath caught in his chest outside.

_Rooftops and Invitations_

_The first time you looked_

_At her curves you were hooked_

_And the glances you took_

_Took hold of you_

_And demanded that you stay_

_Sunk in their teeth,_

_Bit you hard and released_

_Such a charge that you need_

_Another touch_

_Another taste_

_Another fix_

_She just might get you lost_

_And she just might leave you torn_

_But she just might save your soul_

_If she gets you if she _

_Gets you any closer_

_She leads you up_

_Points out skylines and stars_

_Steeplechases and bars_

_And took your keys_

_And demanded that you stay_

_The city longs well for_

_Rooftops and invitations_

_All lace and secret places_

_She moves you to touch_

_With her hands_

_And she just might get you lost_

_And she just might leave you torn_

_But she just might save your soul_

_If she gets you any closer_

_Under the cool sheet_

_Where the welcome touch_

_Of skin and skin will meet_

_But on the inside_

_Where the girls prize_

_Is at the tip of your tongue_

_Where every move and each impulse_

_Brings clarity_

_To stay like this_

_Is everything_

_You'll ever need_

_She just might get you lost_

_And she just might leave you torn_

_But she just might save your soul_

_If she gets you any closer_

_She just might get you lost_

_And she just might leave you torn_

_But she just might save your soul_

_If she gets you any closer_

_Can you believe your eyes?_


	5. Chapter 5

Outside the room, Lucas could have sworn he had had a heart attack. _Brooke… loves him?_ "Shocked" was a bit of an understatement. How could Brooke have kept anything like this under wraps for so long? Even she couldn't do that for so many years. Thoughts and ideas and contradictions ran rampant through Lucas's brain, going too fast for him to even latch onto and consider. Not really thinking through his clouded mind, Lucas looked into the room, and was almost as shocked as he had been thirty seconds ago.

Brooke was standing with her back to Jamie, in that vulnerable, scared way that Lucas had grown accustomed to, but that he hadn't seen in a while. A silent tear was rolling down her crumpled face.

"Uncle Lucas?" Jamie said, breaking the seemingly perfect silence, stillness.

Lucas quickly withdrew behind the safety of the wall. For a second, he thought that Jamie had spotted him, until he realized that Jamie was just confirming Brooke's answer. Although his mind was swimming, Lucas still heard Brooke whisper, "We—we shouldn't talk about his anymore, ok?" Brooke breathed in with a small laugh, and Lucas could see her in his mind's eye: desperately trying to compose herself, her back still to Jamie, wiping her eyes and smiling to try and rid hers face of red eyes or any sign of sadness, withdrawing back behind her network of protective walls. Lucas, though he was behind the wall, could still see all of her features clearly in his head. He should have; he knew them almost as well as his own.

Within a second, Lucas realized that he didn't want to be here when Brooke came out; joke or no joke, he didn't want to face her after a revelation like that. That's why he jumped when Brooke said, "Ok, Jamie, I'll be downstairs if you need me, but try not to need me." Brooke laughed out these last few lines, but it was a high, obviously forced laugh. Lucas quickly ducked, and flew silently down the hall, and he didn't stop when he reached the door. He threw it open as quietly as he could and darted outside. He hadn't brought a car, so Lucas just kept right on running.

It's funny, really, when emotion fuels a person's energy, makes them feel alive. Lucas had read stories about mother's who had lifted cars off their children in a crisis, or other things like that. But the next day, when they tried to do it again, they wouldn't be able to move the car an inch. This was what Lucas was experiencing now; maybe not on that level, but he could feel the energy coursing through his veins, pumping through his body.

This was the same thing that had happened on the eve of Keith's death: after the news, after the shock had cut through his body and anger, sadness, fear had all set in, Lucas had risen from his bed, slowly, silently, and walked through the kitchen where his mom was sobbing on the table. He ignored her, striding with his jaw set right to the back door, where he threw it open and stood there just for a minute, observing the world without Keith. Lucas couldn't understand. The earth should have stopped, people should be inside, didn't they realize that he was gone? Even the sweet night air seemed heavy and sour. The tree's overhead seemed to sway with a sickening, poignant motion: back and forth, back and forth.

And that was when he ran.

Lucas didn't know where he was going. On the contrary, he just wanted to go somewhere and not think, just be alone. He had yelled at Brooke earlier, and now as he thought about it, the gravity of that weighed down on him, adding to his bowed shoulders. There was something comforting in the steady tattoo of his feet pounding on the pavement, each separate step a small release of his sorrows, each increase in speed a relief. Before he knew it, had had run five miles and he was breathing hard, but while he was running, a manic electricity had possessed him and pushed him, fueling his legs and body.

He was doing that now. Running, not from something, but _with _something.

Faster and faster, until the world flew by him at a blur and he was no longer in control

Even at the speed he as running, it took him over ten minutes to get home. Panting hard, not realizing how he had been gasping for breath on the run, Lucas staggered into his room and collapsed onto the bed, completely and utterly spent emotionally and physically.

Hours later, or it could have been seconds, Lucas would never know in the darkness, he rolled off his bed. Hours of idling had never done him good; so for lack of anything better to do, he wandered around his room. Finally, his eyes alighted on the closet.

_Of course, what better way to distract myself than dig through that mess,_ Lucas thought to himself, and he kneeled down, opening the wooden doors. What a thing to be doing, in the midst of deliberations like his.

"Old shoes, a basketball," Lucas murmured, "A report card— ooh boy, that's not great." It was from senior year, during basketball season. Between practice and Brooke's "study sessions" (which consisted of nothing even resembling studying), Lucas hadn't really found any time to study, so his grades had slipped a little. Brooke may have become more chaste since her first heartbreak, but there had always been that sexy, seductive aide of her flitting just beneath her virtuous surface, waiting for the right moment to emerge. _And,_ Lucas thought with a grin,_ we certainly had a lot of moments._

A few more minutes of digging rewarded Lucas with a Carolina poster, a license plate that he had been looking for, an old, heavy shoebox covered in dust, another pair of shoes (_When was the last time I cleaned this out? Lucas thought_), and finally a cell phone that must have been from junior year, back in '06.

Half laughing over a photo album that he had thumbed through, Lucas made to open the heavy shoebox.

As soon as he saw the contents of the box, it slipped from his grasp.

"_There are 82 letters in this box, and they're all addressed to you. I wrote them all this summer, one a day, but I never sent them because I was afraid."_

"_Brooke—"_

"_I was afraid of getting my heart broken again, like before? Cos you hurt me so bad, I was afraid to be vulnerable. And I was afraid of you, and the way that you make me feel. And I know that doesn't matter now, after what I did, but I just thought you should know. This is how I spent my summer, Luke. Wanting you. I was just too scared to admit it."_

_She had left his doorway without another word, knowing that he probably wasn't going to say anything either. Hell, she would be surprised if she didn't find the letters in the garbage can tomorrow morning, after what she had done._

_But Lucas knew he would never do that. No matter his anger at her, he never would. They would be with him forever._

Countless, multi-colored envelopes littered the floor around his bed. He lifted them with shuddering hands, almost afraid to touch them because they seemed so fragile. It wasn't that they were physically delicate; they were an extension of the vulnerable girl who had written them, therefore transferring some of that openness into her writing. He placed them back into the box carefully, wanting to preserve that openness as much as he could.

When everything was returned, Lucas sat back on his bed with a sigh, the box still on his lap. _Brooke._

"_How many moments can you look at and say, "That's where it all changed?" Well, you just had one."_

"_I've never given a rat's ass before," … "I give a rat's ass about you, too,"_

"_I want to know everything about you,"_

"_People who are meant to be together always find their way in the end,"_

"_I really liked being the girl behind the red door,"…. "I'll miss the girl behind the red door,"_

"_I wasn't ready to lose you"… "I wasn't ready to be lost. Thank you, Luke."_

"_What I wanted? I wanted you to fight for me…"_

"_I'm the guy for you, Brooke Davis,"_

"…_because you kink your eyebrow, when you're trying to be cute? Because you quote Keimu even though I've never actually seen you read. And because you miss your parents but you'll never ever admit that. And because, we're both, gonna get pneumonia, but if you need to hear why I love you, I can go on all night."…"You did pretty good."_

"_I promise to rescue you, as long as you rescue me back," …. "I promise."_

Brooke. Crazy, insane, wild-child Brooke Davis.

The girl he wasn't meant to be with.

It was supposed to be simple: He and Peyton were meant to be…

"_I'll be seeing you…"_

"_You can't control love, you know?"_

"_I want this, and I want it with you. All of it."_

"_It's you, Peyton…the one I want next to me."_

"_If I said I loved you right now, would you hold it against me?"_

"_I think we've waited long enough,"_

Prom night. Derek. Everything they shared seemed to be a symbol of Lucas and Peyton. Destiny, people said. But Lucas always thought that destiny would have never thrown in Brooke Davis…

Lucas fell back onto his bed, mind spinning in a million different directions.

Peyton…

Brooke…

"So, how am I doing so far?"

Mouth and Millicent walked down the road, away from the restaurant, hand in hand. The dark and broody mood that Lucas was in right now, miles away, was the exact opposite of the couple. They were in a light, fun humor, laughing and talking, away from all the drama.

"Well, I think you are doing excellent, Marvin," Millicent answered. "What's up next?"

Mouth smiled. "The Riverwalk. C'mon." He turned and led her across the street.

A few minutes later, Millicent breathed in the fresh air that was rising off the cold river. The two sat on the waist high railing that ran the entire length of the Riverwalk. "How about I get us the quintessential 'date ice creams'?" Mouth offered, and Millicent laughed. "Ok, then, I'll be back in a minute."

Watching him, Millicent thought Mouth looked very handsome in his dark jeans and plain, button-down black shirt. It was a simple, classic look that worked very well with Mouth. Millicent was wearing a knee-length dress that Brooke had given her just that afternoon, especially for the date.

It wasn't that it was their first date; rather that Mouth made it sound so… distinguished, that she thought she should dress up more than usual. And she was glad she did. Her whole ensemble fit quite well with Mouth and the date, classy but casual, dressy and relaxed; it just worked.

Well, it did, until Mouth came back with the ice creams. "Hey, I got you—" As he walked forward he, in classic Mouth fashion, tripped.

It was almost like Millicent was watching from afar. The ice creams didn't arc melodramatically through the air, twisting and convulsing like in the movies; they shot like arrows right into her chest, splattering. But of course, it didn't end there. Mouth, in a desperate, involuntary attempt to stay upright, grabbed onto Millicent. Millicent, in an alarmed, frightened effort to grab him, put one of her hands behind her to steady herself.

Not realizing that there wasn't anything behind her, Millicent put all her weight on the hand that was on the non-existent rail behind her.

And fell into the river.

Luckily, this section of the river was wide and shallow, and Millicent dropped right into a waist deep, sandy bed.

"Millicent!" Mouth shouted, taking off his shoes, thinking that she must have fallen into an eddy when he didn't hear her voice. He quickly jumped onto the rail, the froze. "Crap," he muttered, looking at the dark water. Mouth had never been good in these sort of situations. He—

"Jump, boy! Your dame has fallen into the goddamn river!" Came a heavy Irish voice from behind him.

"What?" Mouth said right before he jumped the ten-foot drop.

The murky water swirled around him as he made his way to the top, where light was filtering down from the walk above him. Though it was only waist deep right below the bridge, Mouth had jumped into deeper waters and swum to the base of the Riverwalk. "Millicent? Millicent!" Mouth cried in a desperate panic when he reached the surface and didn't see her. He spun rapidly in the water, trying to part it as if Millicent was hiding right below the surface.

"Right here," called a laughing voice from under the bridge. Mouth turned to see a soaked Millicent waving at him from some rocks.

"Oh my god, are you ok?" asked Mouth, coming over and panting in relief.

"I'm fine, I was just counting the time until you jumped in. It was about eighteen seconds; what took you so long?"

Mouth laughed in nervous relief, not thinking of anything to say. "It's because the damn boy panicked before he jumped!" yelled the Irish voice from above them. Mouth bit his lip and looked up before returning his gaze to a giggling Millicent. He shrugged a sheepish apology.

"It's alright, I knew you would," Millicent told him, standing up. "Just like you're going to catch me!" Without warning, she leapt into the air and into the water next to him.

Laughing, the couple wrapped their arms around each other, feeling completely alien to this adventurous spirit that was flowing through them. However, Millicent decided to act on it. Leaning in, she kissed Mouth gently while the dark water churned around them, sparkling with the reflections from the many lights on the Riverwalk.

"Oi! Are you two coming up, or should I come back tomorrow?" It was the man from above, leaning over the rail and holding a rope out to the pair. Mouth grinned, looking up.

"We'll be up in a minute!" Then he kissed Millicent back.


	6. Chapter 6

The morning sun warmed Karen's face as she stirred in bed, and for a second it was as if Keith's arm was around her, and she delighted in the dreamy sensation. But then, the harsh reality that was the same all the time replaced the warm feeling of bliss, and Karen rose to face the new day.

"Hey, how are you? Good morning," said a bright Andy, who was standing at the counter when she walked into the kitchen, making coffee with Lily.

"Fine. Good morning to you too," Karen said sleepily. "How'd you sleep, Lily?"

"Good," Lily said, coming to sit next to Karen. "Where's Lucas? I didn't see him last night."

Karen looked to Lucas's closed door. Last night, Lucas had come in at about 10:30, emerged from his room after a few minutes, said a few, hurried words of goodnight, and disappeared. He hadn't been asleep though; Karen had seen the strip of light from beneath his door and had even heard him moving around before she went to sleep at 11:30. Sometime during the night, when she had gotten up for a snack, she found his light still on. Looking in, she saw Lucas asleep sideways on his bed, contents of his closet strewn about him, and a shoebox beside his head. She had woken him up, and minutes later, when she went back to bed, he was asleep again, this time right-side up in the bed.

"Why don't you go wake him up, Lily? He's in his room."

"OK!" said Lily excitedly. As she ran off, Andy sat down in the chair she vacated.

"Coffee," he announced, handing her a cup.

In Lucas's room, Lily cautiously approached the mountain of sheets and pillows and blankets, somewhere in the midst of which Lucas was.

"Lucas…" she whispered.

"Boo!" Lucas shouted, jumping up and throwing the pile off of him. He grabbed a screaming Lily around the middle, and hoisted her up before she could run off.

"No! No! No!" she screamed, cackling madly.

"I got you," Lucas growled.

After a few minutes of tickling and laughing, Lucas finally set Lily down and she went running into the kitchen, still laughing.

Lucas followed her, coming into the kitchen just as Lily was dragging Andy outside. Lucas sat down next to his mom.

"She's energetic this morning," Lucas said, gesturing towards Lily through the window. She and Andy were throwing with a basketball back and forth.

Karen smiled. "Yeah… So, what happened last night?" She asked curiously, shifting to face him.

"Just going through some old stuff. Found those letters from Brooke."

"Brooke?"

"Yeah. Last night was a weird night, full of surprises."

"Like what?"

"Just stuff. New developments in my life, if you will."

"Stuff. As in stuff with Brooke and Peyton?"

"Yeah," Lucas said, scratching the back of his neck, not even asking how him mom knew. "I just don't know what to do about all of it."

"Well, what's confusing you?"

"Before, I thought I was in love with Lindsey, but everyone thought I loved Peyton. Now, I don't love Lindsey, Peyton's confusing me and Brooke said she loved me last night. It's insane."

Karen raised her eyebrows. "She told you she loved you?"

Lucas mentally swore. How his mom managed to drag things out of him he never would know. "No, she told Jamie that the reason she and Owen didn't work out is because 'he could never have been the man she would always be in love with' and that that man is me."

"Hmm. And why does that have you confused?"

He thought for a moment, realizing the truth behind his mother's words. Why was he confused that Brooke loved him? Sure, he could say that having different people love him was confusing, but his mom wouldn't buy that, and neither would he. "I guess, because of the way I feel towards her." Karen leaned forward.

"You mean, you like her, but as a friend."

Lucas shook his head, staring at a spot on the floor, as if deciphering his answers from it. "Not entirely. It's something strange: she's more than a friend, but past that, I don't know. There's a part of me that wants to be with her, but a part is holding back because she hasn't been interested in me for years."

"But how do you feel about her?"

"I don't know, alright!" Lucas was suddenly on his feet, not angry, just unsettled. "I don't know if she's just a friend, I don't know how she really feels about me, and I don't know if I love her!"

Karen, used to these rare outbursts from her son, remained quiet, but a satisfied smile flitted across her face for a fraction of a second before Lucas could tell that it had been there for sure.

"What?" he asked when she didn't say anything. Lucas sat down as he waited for her to say something. This time, he caught the quick smile.

"I didn't say anything about you loving her."

Silence.

Karen switched tactics in an attempt to solve the enigma surrounding her son's confusion, which she was sure he didn't know the answer to himself. "Luke, I know that isn't the only thing holding you back from talking to her. What else is there?"

"I guess everything that's going on with Peyton."

"Peyton?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, do you love Peyton?"

"Who are you, Doctor Phil?" Karen raised an eyebrow, but repeated her question.

"How do you fee—"

Lucas stood up again, this time the force sending the chair flying backwards. "I don't know if I love anyone!" Karen stood up as well, going to where Lucas stood with his back towards her, leaning on the counter. The muscles in his arms were showing through the skin, and the veins were pulsing in his wrists as he gripped the edge of the sink.

"What did you feel with Peyton?"

Lucas was taken aback. No one had ever asked him that question in such an outright manner before. "I guess I felt… complete. I just identified with Peyton.We could talk for hours, without any fights or yelling. It was simple, we talked about our favorite bands, or her art, or my writing, and we just got each other. It was so easy, and that's why everyone said we were meant to be. And I think we are."

"And Brooke?"

"Brooke," Lucas laughed, "Brooke was staggering. We had fights, occasionally, only to makeup a few seconds later. It wasn't angry fights, really, more just tension. I don't know why we were ever tense, I felt completely natural with her, but we still got into the meaningless little things. Once we, even argued about whether _The Hill_s was scripted or not. But she was mind-blowing. Stunning, overwhelming, strong-minded, tough-as-hell Brooke Davis, the same Brooke that could be curled in my arms, totally vulnerable and open, just minutes later." Lucas seemed to be talking to himself now, thinking aloud, skaing his head, smilng and remembering simpler times. "But most of all, Brooke was _alive._ And she made me feel alive. We didn't go together, we didn't match, but I loved it all. And I loved her. More than anything."

"Then you should go after her," came Andy's voice simply. He and Lily stood in the doorway, having come in right as Lucas was talking about Peyton. Lucas looked at him, but it was more than just a glance. He seemed to be considering him, considering something. Then Lucas looked back at his mom.

"What do you think, having said that?" Karen asked Luke.

"It's not that easy," Lucas whispered hoarsely to Andy, ignoring his mother's question. The one he didn't know the answer to.

"Well, it should be. Going after one and making the wrong decision is better than going after neither and not getting hurt. And from what I've heard, you could be with either Brooke or Peyton and still be happy. You just have to decide which one would make you happier. But you have to take the chance."

There was silence in the kitchen.

"Who's Brooke, your _girlfriend_?" Lily sang.

"There's something I have to do," Lucas said finally, nodding and exiting the room.

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"_So, yeah, there's this guy here, a guy who's interested in signing with the label."_

"Mia, really?"

Peyton was leaning against her desk in the office, cell phone to her ear. Mia had just called from Atlanta, and had excitedly told Peyton about a young, unsigned artist she had met. He said that he had heard about the label, and how it sounded different than the big industry labels he had approached. So, he had gone to Mia's show, snuck back stage and asked her about it.

"Mia, what's his name?"

"_Um, I didn't get it, but he said he might be up your way on a stop over flight soon, so he may see you."_

"That's great!"

"_Yeah, it'll be the second artist," Mia said._

After a few more minutes of unimportant banter, Peyton and Mia finally said good-bye. After the phone clicked off, Peyton took a deep breath and looked around the room.

_Open. Warm. Comfortable. Alive. _

Her office in TRIC possessed all of these qualities, by Karen's design, probably. Its airy space and floor-to-ceiling windows. But in her time spent there, Peyton had managed to add her own brand of edginess to it: old albums as wall art, her decision to keep the unfinished, rusty looking walls and floor, the vintage furniture, the shafts of light that filtered through the old windows and seemed to highlight every dust particle that wafted through the air. Within a few short weeks of Lucas giving it to her, the office already felt like home. Hell, she even slept here occasionally.

Reminding herself that she had to get some actual work done, Peyton went back to a list of possible bands. She couldn't wait forever on the mystery artist from Atlanta.

"Hmm…Suspected…End of it all...Detonation…ok, huh, Air Eclipse…"

"Air eclipse?" asked a quiet, hoarse voice from above her.

"Crap," Peyton breathed, dropping the demo CD and falling back into her chair. "Luke, you scared the hell out of me." She grinned up at him, laughing in relief. He smiled softly back, the way he used to. But somehow, the smile didn't reach his icy blue eyes. Or was she just being paranoid?

It didn't matter. Everything felt right, right now. They were in TRIC, which they shared, in a way. He had come to see her, as he had promised last night. He was asking her how the bands were going. He was brooding, obvious from the way his hair stood out in all directions and with Lucas brooding, along came Peyton to brood with him.

Everything was right.

"Sorry," he apologized simply, but when their gazes locked unseen emotions were transferred, and Peyton felt his sorrow and remorse and a bittersweet feeling she wasn't used to with him. He was usually so black and white, instead of a thousand shades of grey. They didn't need words to communicate.

Well, maybe just a few.

"Luke, I'm really happy you came by," Peyton started the conversation. She steeled herself for what she was about to do, to connect with Lucas once more in that magical way they once had and restore themselves to all the glory they had 

had in high school as a couple. They completed each other, and Peyton was tired of feeling alone. She needed to steel herself because she was so used to feeling alone and being independent that it would be a bit of a shock to be with him again, and it was hard to give up that bad-ass attitude she usually carried. But she had to do it. On a whim, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Lucas.

"Peyton," Lucas sighed into her hair in the same soft voice, gingerly accepting the hug as though his ribs were broken. As Peyton pulled away, she took in his genuine face, crowned with his messy blonde hair and icy blue eyes that complemented the deep blue dress shirt that hung loosely over his body. She was overcome, and decided to take a wild shot in the dark.

Before they were so far apart that Lucas could have foreseen her intentions and it would have been awkward, Peyton stretched up and kissed him.

The night at the basketball appreciation party…the hotel when her father went missing…the school shooting…the state championship…everything they had melted together. Peyton eased in, and memories of them swirled into a fierce storm of fantastic shapes and colors that whirled past her closed eyes, becoming a manic gale of undefined contour and reminiscences that seemed to culminate in this single moment…

And then he pulled away.

"Peyton." Lucas murmured her name for the second time as he stared at a spot on the floor. "You're not making this any easier."

"What?" asked a confused Peyton, as she watched him turn away and run his hands through his hair. For a brief, ridiculous moment, she wondered where Lucas had gotten that particular trait. He certainly hadn't done it when she first met him.

"You're not making this any easier," Lucas muttered again, louder than before even though he knew Peyton had heard him. He still faced away from her.

"Lucas, making what easier?" Peyton pressed warily, touching his shoulder softly and cocking her head to meet his averted eyes.

"This!" Lucas shouted, suddenly turning back to face her. "Us! You and me! Your— your— campaign— to be with me! I want it to stop!"

Peyton was shell-shocked, and remained silent as he stalked to the other side of the room, rubbing his face and hair. She had been expecting a heartfelt speech after their kiss, like the ones Brooke used to tell her about in senior year, not a savage outburst scorning their relationship. Her body turned on automatic. "Lucas, I'm sorry, I moved too fast, I can wait, like I said before, I can sacrifice—"

"Sacrifice?" Lucas's voice took an incredulous turn. "Peyton, sacrifice is what Keith did at the school that day. Sacrifice is what Jake did the first time, turning away from everything he knew for the sake of his daughter. I can understand forgoing one's feelings for the betterment of all those around them, like Brooke did before, but 'burying' your feelings for me does nothing, and then to parade it around as if you expect a medal!"

Lucas's every word was a shard of ice, like his eyes, that whistled through the air and ripped Peyton to shreds. She was strong, yes, but not faced with a situation as alien as this. Peyton dissolved, and she sank onto the couch with tears running down her face.

When he saw normally strong Peyton like that, Lucas softened, realizing what he had just said. "Peyton, Peyton, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." He crossed the room in two steps and was in front of her.

Swallowing, she said, "I think you did."

"No, I didn't. I never meant for it to come out like that, and I never meant to hurt you." The line reminded for an instant of something he had said a long time ago, to another girl, and she had sadly responded with something that had stuck in his head since then.

Peyton didn't respond with anything but more silent tears.

"I just, I needed to tell you that I can't do this," Lucas decided that there was no point in hiding his true intentions any more, no point in masking his reason for coming here. "Since this whole- triangle from hell started, it's caused nothing but trouble and strife and drama in my life, and in yours. I came to tell you that I'm not going to be a part of it anymore."

Peyton finally looked up at him. "I know! And I get it and I just want to know why we can't just get out of it together, and leave Tree Hill, and never come back. We'll be fine together!" Her offer was serious: Tree Hill held nothing but broken, horrible memories of an old life. Lucas sat down next to her.

"Peyton, you know I can't do that. No matter where I go, Tree Hill is home. My home." She simply looked up and shook her head, incensing Lucas to stand up again.

"I've thrown away so much for us, and look where it's gotten you and me! I lost Lindsey and—" He paused, not knowing how to continue.

"Brooke?" Peyton guessed, tears welling again. How dare he insinuate that she hadn't given up things for him. Her friendship with Brooke, for example. Her relationship with Jake and Jenny.

"Yeah," Lucas said, defeated.

Peyton nodded. "You mentioned her earlier. Is she what this is about?"

He evaded the question. "Like I said, I've thrown it all away for nothing…"

"Nothing? I'm nothing?" Peyton stood from the couch as her voice rose. She was fighting that nagging suspicion in her mind, fighting against that which was becoming more and more plausible…

"Peyton, you're important to me! But--"

"I was next to you Lucas; I was next to you when all you're dreams came true."

"I wanted you next to me, at the time. But you weren't. Brooke pushed me in your direction at the championship game. Brooke was there when my book was published, she was always there. And I want her to be." He finished with a sort of firmness as he came to the point of his visit, waiting for the inevitable.

"So she is what this is all about," said Peyton with incredulous disbelief in every word. "The one who came in after me, the one who stole you away from me."

"Peyton—"

"You said it was me, Lucas! At the game that night, you said it was me and I didn't need anymore words because I felt it. And I know you felt it too." She was reverting to her fall-back, her safety blanket in those few words at the State Championship. She shook her head torpidly, still disbelieving.

When Lucas next spoke, it was with a quiet tone and guarded tongue. "And that night, remember when I disappeared for a couple hours? I drove to Brooke's. I didn't see her, I just sat in my car. I sat in my car out in front and allowed the silence to slow the thoughts in my head. The silence absorbed me, and soon, I thought about everything, because I wasn't trying to think at all. And that's when I realized what a mistake I was making. I should have been fighting for Brooke, like she fought for me. You may say that she didn't fight at all, that she tried to push me away, but you know it's a lie. She fought every instinct she had, every instinct that told her to never open her heart again, much less to me. She fought against my ultimatum after I caught her with Chris. She fought against all the people who said that we weren't right for each other. And the amazing thing is, she did it without even realizing it. She fought for us without realizing it."

Peyton turned away, masking her pain with a bitter sarcasm. "Well, I can certainly see why you're a writer: that was a very eloquent explanation."

"Why the hell do you always do this?"

"Because no matter what you thought at the time, I was still next to you when your dream came true. You told me so." Lucas saw that she was going to stand by that until the end, and he turned away with a depleted sigh.

"I may have wanted you next to me," he whispered to the wall, for it was much easier to talk at than Peyton. "But she _was _the one by my side. Our ship sailed, Peyton, it's too late. It was a high school romance, and yes, maybe we were meant to be together. As friends. But with Brooke, it's all or nothing, and I want it all. She's always been there, and I need her to always be. I'm sorry, Peyton."

He reached for her crumpled form, her shoulders that were bowed from heartbreak and by extension, reaching for her heart that had just been wrenched to pieces. But, just as he had done during the kiss, she pulled away. She closed up, in order to salvage what was left.

"Get out." Peyton parried all of his protests with the two small words. She didn't even look up until she heard the swish of the opening door, and then she heard it slam. It echoed with a resounding finality, as if it did more than just close the door between her and Lucas.

Eventually, the echoes of the door faded.

_Cold. Painful. Numb. Lifeless._

The silence was deafening.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: You've probably realized that there hasn't been any Naley in London, I just figured that other than seeing the sights and… doing Naley things in the hotel rooms that wouldn't be appropriate for a "T" rated fic… there wouldn't be much to write about. No worries though, when they get home you will definitely see the Nathan and Haley we LOVE. At least, that I love ;)**

**Also, I have a few concerns with this fic; one, I feel as though I'm making the characters act differently than they would in the TV show. We all know Lucas probably wouldn't be that harsh on Peyton, and that Peyton wouldn't be so naïve about everything, and things like that. I'm making them into what I think they should be, or want them to be, rather than what they are.**

**However, as much as I want it to be realistic, I dislike Peyton, and we'll see a few more fights with her. But, she could possibly redeem herself later.**

**Also, I feel like I'm rushing things, putting in too much of one storyline, blah blah blah. So, if anyone has any suggestions or criticism or ideas, I'd love to hear them! **

**Also, is anyone following the European Championship? I would totally love for Italy or the Netherlands to win. **

**Enough of my rambling, here is the next part! Read and enjoy and review please! It's kinda short, but I have a feeling you'll love the next chapter… : )**

She curled against the arm of the couch, unable or unwilling to leave this place where it had all changed for her. Maybe, possibly, if she stayed here, time would reverse itself and it could be taken back. If she left, it would be cemented in place and become so much more real. It was a disparaging thought. Tears rolled from her bright green eyes and splashed against her heaving chest. Her body was overcome with racking sobs.

What she wanted now more than ever was someone to cry on, or with, or someone to wrap their strong arms around her and hold her tight until all the pain and heartbreak and shock went away. She wanted this, and she hated herself all the more for it. Every time this thought crossed her mind, it reminded her of the tragedy that she had gone through just an hour earlier, and how she couldn't have that safety blanket any longer. This always brought on a new bout of sobs that shook her whole body.

It wasn't until hours later that the tears finally stopped. Even if she had tried, another tear wouldn't have fallen. Too tired to think about anything, too drained to place blame or accusations on anyone but herself, too emotionally spent to consider what this bleak future could possibly hold, Peyton just lay there, dejectedly staring at the same pipe on the ceiling.

She begged sleep to take her, and it did. But before she fell, one last thought crossed her mind.

_I gotta get out of Tree Hill._

It was a rogue thought, something to solve all of her problems. But it went unconsidered as Peyton fell into the deep, black, forgiving recesses of painless sleep.

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The cool female voice filled the air, but was partially masked by the crashing sound of the waves or random conversations of the masses.

"_The ship—"_

"Alright, do you have everything? I'll see you when—"

"—_seven minutes—"_

"—Left the dog in the garage—"

"—_luggage—"_

To Lucas, the voice sounded comically like a telephone conversation with a bad connection; he couldn't help but smile, even after what had happened this morning. It reminded him that not the entire world was steeped in drama like his life.

"—_thank you."_

After that, it turned to another language, Spanish, maybe, and continued to rattle off instructions that no one paid attention to. Lucas turned back to Skills, echoing the conversations all around him.

"So, Skills, you good? Got everything?"

The two friends stood on a dock, dwarfed by the huge cruise ship that gleamed next to them. Skills had decided to take time off from his nonexistent job and go on a week-long cruise to the Bahamas.

"Yeah, it's all here," Skills said apprehensively, staring up at the huge ship.

"What's wrong?"

"Dude, look at that thing! What if it sinks?"

Lucas laughed at Skills's anxiety. "Man, it'll be fine. This thing's like the _Titanic_."

Skills rolled his eyes and gave Lucas a 'duh' look. "Yeah, and _that_ went over real good."

"Huh. I guess you're right." Lucas looked critically at the ground and rubbed his chin. "Well, you had a nice life. See ya later!" He made to walk away.

"Luke!"

"Skills, you know I'm just kidding. It'll be fine." Skills just rolled his eyes again, dropping the discussion.

"Speaking of fine, how's you and P. Sawyer?"

Lucas froze, remembering the disastrous morning. He had said some callous stuff to her, stuff that he didn't mean to come out and that he regretted, in a way. She didn't deserve it. But, everything he had said had a harsh grain of truth, and he was determined not to lie to Peyton. That's how he consoled himself, at least.

"Uh, Peyton and I—"

Suddenly the whistle sounded, and for once, everyone listened to this announcement: "Last call! Anyone who isn't on now isn't on at all!"

"Well, dawg, that's my call. I'll see you in a week," Skills interrupted, pounding fists with Lucas. "Try to stay off that Peyton candy, aight?"

Lucas gave a grimace that he hoped looked like a smile. "I'm sure it won't be a problem," he whispered pensively to himself as Skills walked up the gangplank.

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"We need to talk," Andy said officially as he sat down next to Karen.

She had been sitting at the table for the past hour, staring silently into the shafts of light that highlight the swirling dust in the air. It was mid-afternoon, and Lily was watching cartoons in the front room. Andy took his one opportunity to voice what had been weighing on his mind all day.

"Dan?" she guessed, not taking her eyes off the window.

"Dan," he confirmed. "I'm not sure what to do about him."

"He's an ass."

Andy smiled slightly, in eternal admiration of Karen's courage. For eighteen years, she had raised an amazing son, successfully run two businesses, all the while in the same town where she had grown up, a town that probably didn't hold good memories for her. And, of course, there had been that ever-looming threat of Dan Scott, a shadowy figure in the background of Lucas's life, someone who could have come in at any second and torn everything Karen had built to shreds.

But she kept going strong, keeping her hope and faith. And then Keith died, and it seemed as though, for the first time in her life, Karen was truly broken. But she had even fought through that, and she was fighting even now to keep her daughter safe from the same puppet master who had threatened Lucas in his younger years.

"He's more than that. But one thing about Dan: he usually gets what he wants, whether it be through his own cleverness or some divine power. But he always does. And I think that we need to make sure he can't get to Lily, no matter what his intentions are." Andy's voice was grave.

Karen nodded in the silence. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," he sighed. He had no answers this time.

An unspoken thought crossed between them, and they both turned to look at the small, brunette six-year old who was laughing gleefully at the TV. How could Dan ever touch something like that? But he could. And worse, he would.

Looking to change the subject of their depressing conversation, Andy asked, "So, where's Lucas today?"

Karen smiled in nervous relief. "He's going to see Antwon off for his cruise, and from there I don't know."

"What do you think about all this?" He waved an arm around the kitchen, trying to signify the conversation from this morning. Luckily, Karen understood.

"I just want what makes him happy, and the least troubled. I wish I would have known more when he was in high school. I was always at the café, or TRIC, or with Keith or you. I only knew that he liked Peyton, then dated Brooke. And of course, that pregnancy thing," she added with an uneasy laugh, as if remembering that night when she heard the news. "After, I knew that he loved Brooke for a while, then she left for the summer, and then they got together. Then they broke up, and he got together with Peyton. Of course, he always came to me for advice, but I never knew it was this deep and twisted. No wonder he brooded so much more in junior and senior years."

Andy laughed and rubbed a grimacing Karen's shoulder. "It'll be fine. Lucas'll make the right decision. Same goes with us and Lily."

Karen could tell Andy wanted to say something more; there was something in his voice, in the way he leaned forward ever so slightly, how his eyes begged her to guess and start the conversation. But what he wanted to talk about, Karen had no idea.

Together, they looked once more towards Lily, both with apprehensive looks on their faces again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey there, pretty girl."

He didn't realize the slip until too late. Inside his mouth, Lucas harshly bit his own tongue, waiting for her reaction.

Brooke ignored it though, or maybe she didn't hear it. She quickly scanned the playground to make sure Jamie was ok before shading her eyes and looking up to Lucas. The light wind rustled her hair, and she seemed almost like a staged picture, like she was in a photo shoot for some high-end magazine.

"Hey Luke." She smiled, showing the famous Brooke Davis dimples. A sight for sore eyes.

Lucas had just walked up to the shady bench where Brooke was sitting and reading—what else?— "B. Davis" magazine. Jamie had insisted Brooke take him to the park today, and she had instantly called Lucas for backup: the park wasn't exactly her forte.

"I thought you were seeing Skills off on his big fancy boat ride?"

Lucas sat down next to her. "Yeah, it sank," he said nonchalantly.

"Ohmigod, Lucas! What happened?" She instantly sat up, eyes wide.

"Brooke, you know I'm just kidding; it didn't take as long as I thought to get him set up." He tried an apologetic smile, but Brooke hit him with her magazine anyways.

"Well, you missed ice cream hour. Seems a fitting punishment," she said with mock officialness and a curt nod. Then her joke fell away and she giggled and smiled at him.

"It certainly is," Lucas said, leaning himself into a more comfortable position on the bench, looking out for Jamie. "You know, we're godparents."

"Yep."

"So, we should act like an old married couple; always squabbling and arguing."

"Uh, one, we're twenty-two. And two, we do that anyways." She kinked an eyebrow and laughed.

"Shouldn't you be designing clothes or something? I heard that's what all famous fashion designers do sometimes," he teased.

"Shouldn't you be writing a book?"

"Nice try, Brooke Davis, but I already did. What's your excuse?"

"I— shut up, Lucas." She bit her lip with a reluctant smile, and the two started laughing.

After the fun had subsided, Brooke spoke up again. "You know, I'm glad we can do this sort of thing."

"What?"

"Be friends."

_The waves crashed against the shore, sending rolling booms across the dunes up to the party. But there was one figure alone on the sand, sitting with a peaceful sadness, staring across the endless black ocean._

_He stepped lightly towards her bent form, and she looked up at him serenely._

"_Is this beach taken?" he asked._

"_There's plenty to go around."_

"_Don't worry," he said, sitting down, "I'm not going to ask you if you're ok." _

"_Good."_

"_Know any good jokes?"_

"_You're looking at one." She turned back to the ocean. "Why does everybody lie? You know, the bad guys lie to get in your bed, and the good guys," she turned to him savagely, "Lie to get in your heart."_

_He leaned back with a sigh, knowing his role._

"_And I'm the idiot that falls for it every time."_

"_Brooke, you are not an idiot. Not even close. You know who you are. Most people don't. That's why they lie. They're afraid someone might find out who they are before they figure it out themselves."_

_They stared at each other for a long moment. "Lemme take you home."_

"_I can get home without a guy, thanks."_

_He nodded. "Ok." He began walking away._

"_Wait." He turned back. "I really don't want to walk."_

_It was early morning when they got back to Brooke's house. She turned away from her house to face him as he shut off the car._

"_So, thanks for breakfast. We should do this more often."_

"_Do what?"_

"_Be friends."_

"_We are friends."_

"_But we should BE friends."_

"_I'd like that."_

"_But no benefits."_

_He just laughed and watched her go._

"How're you and Peyton?"

The question pulled him from his thoughts, his fond memories. Brooke's face seemed genuinely interested, but for the first time in several years, Lucas thought he saw something more: curiosity? Concern? Maybe even… hope?

But, of course, he could have imagined it.

"Um, actually—"

"Uncle Lucas!" Suddenly, a small, multi-colored ball landed on Lucas's lap, a ball that soon turned out to be Jamie in his cape. "What are you doing here?"

"Providing backup," Lucas told him truthfully.

"Can we get ice cream?"

"Did you already?"

"No," said Jamie innocently. Lucas looked at an incredulous Brooke, but she quickly recovered herself.

"Uh, little genius boy, nice try. Instead of that, how about Uncle Lucas comes home for dinner? Is that good with you, Luke?" He nodded.

"Ok!" Jamie crawled off the bench.

"Why don't you go get your things, and we'll meet Uncle Lucas later?" Jamie nodded and hurried off to collect his toys.

"He's so damn innocent-looking, he could get you to buy him anything." Lucas laughed and shook his head. "Thanks for inviting me for tonight."

"Yeah, it's those eyes. They can make you tell him anything, even things you're not sure of yourself…"

Lucas tried to keep his expression blank (and he's not sure if he succeeded) as remembered the night before.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The car eased quietly through the night, more gliding than driving. True, Peyton wanted to get to her destination, but something seemed to hold her back. Because of her indecision, she decided to coast the car to Nathan and Haley's where she knew Brooke was.

Her car… the Comet. Again, another silent proclamation of Lucas's love, whether he knew it or not. His first book had been a love letter to her; his second, allegory of their love.

Peyton knew Brooke wasn't attracted to Lucas, so it wasn't her fault. Peyton just wanted to talk to her, keep things clean. For now.

By the time she had finished her deliberations and set upon one, clear path, Peyton had arrived at Nathan and Haley's house. Parking the car, she stepped quietly to the porch, but decided it would be better to go around the back, so she wouldn't wake up Jamie if he was sleeping.

Luckily, she was rewarded. Peyton saw the soft glow from the kitchen window in the back, throwing golden light over the pool. She strode confidently to the back door, and that was when she saw them.

Brooke and Lucas sat next to each other at the table with Jamie, and all three were laughing. Brooke looked playfully over at Lucas, giving him a little punch on the shoulder. Very flirty, Peyton thought.

But that was fine. Lucas and Brooke were good friends, they were great at the brother-sister type thing, in Peyton's opinion. What was wrong was the way Brooke looked at him. A sort of appraising look, as if she was looking at him in a new light. A light Peyton didn't want there.

It was the picture of a perfect family; the warm kitchen, a table full of food (although it was all take-out and other fast food), laughing and talking, the loving couple… _the loving couple._

Pain assailed Peyton's body as she stumbled away from the window. Hoping to not be seen, she ducked and lurched to the front of the house. That whore. Peyton couldn't believe Brooke was doing this, trying to steal Lucas away again. Brooke knew that Peyton loved him, but she still did things like this. This was her fault. It was Brooke fault that Lucas had left Peyton this morning. It felt good to place the blame on someone, to relieve her guilty shoulders.

For a long moment, she seriously considered going back and kicking Brooke's sorry— but no, she couldn't do that. Every time she thought about the two of them back there, a new wave of rolling nausea hit her, so Peyton jumped in her car with only one idea in mind.

_I gotta get out of Tree Hill._


	8. Chapter 8

For the next few days, Karen and Andy kept careful watch over Lily, and talked nervously whenever they could spare a moment. Andy had moved in with them, and Karen began seeing more and more of that need to voice something, but she still didn't know what he wanted to talk about.

Peyton had completely dropped off the map. After Lucas talked to her that morning, she hadn't been seen again. Lucas knew it had to do with what he had said, and he wanted to make things right with her, but he didn't know how. He also saw that Brooke seemed to be getting more nervous about it, but she never said anything.

After that day, the official sense of closure for Lucas, the next few days became a string of hazy dreams of spring afternoons and warm nights to him. He bonded with Brooke over Jamie, together most of the time, watching him at the park or at home, and spent nights making dinner and fighting over the remote after Jamie was asleep. But it had to end, and though he willed it not to, the night before Nathan and Haley's return quickly came upon them.

Lucas lounged on the couch, anxiously awaiting Brooke's descent downstairs from tucking Jamie in. He didn't know why he was so anxious, but the night when he had discovered Brooke loved him, something had awoken inside of him, a new feeling or sentiment or emotion or power that he hadn't felt in a long time, one that had been sleeping dormant in him for several years. That passion— was it passion? That was certainly what it could be best described as— the newfound passion had taken over his normal systems, and made him feel things that were irrelevant to the current situation. Well, irrelevant in his eyes.

But the anxiousness disappeared when Brooke stepped carefully down those stairs. From the couch, he could just see one side of her, but a sudden calm washed over Lucas. He and Brooke were friends. Maybe she had been joking or angry, or just not thinking when she had said that. Just like Lucas had thought the first night; even Brooke couldn't possibly have buried something like that for five years. Maybe he had been too frenzied when he had broken it off with Peyton, maybe he was just assuming things, imagining them. He was almost done convincing himself when Brooke walked up to the couch. Then she smiled at him and ruined it all.

"Hi," she said in a soft voice, sitting down on the couch.

The way Lucas was sitting, he was leaning with his back against the arm of the couch, legs spread apart, with one foot on the floor and one leg stretching along the backrest of the chair. Brooke sat on the opposite end, shivering slightly in the frosted, air-conditioned room. But it wasn't only that. Her shoulders were hunched in a way that was alien to Lucas; this wasn't the usual bubbly, independent Brooke. Lucas knew just by looking that a deep sadness flowed through her.

"Here, Brooke, come sit with me," Lucas said in a jokingly begrudging voice, trying to cheer her up as he opened his arms. To his surprise, she curled into his open arms, laying her head comfortably against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

It was that moment that everything changed. In the instant that their skin connected, Lucas felt a shock run through his body, and not the cliché "Love at first sight" shock. It was a jolt of passion, a manic energy that awakened something deeper than the feeling that had first stirred within him nights ago. This, this was an ardor yet unfelt to him, at least that he could remember.

Which was why he was suddenly alarmed when Brooke's body heaved a strange shudder against his, and Lucas felt the first warms splashes of tears fall against his chest.

"Brooke, Brooke, what's wrong?" Lucas cooed softly into her ear, but got no response. The tears began falling thicker and faster, soaking his shirt. "Brooke, its ok, just tell me what's wrong, and it'll be ok." It was strange that he had suddenly taken on such a strong, protective, soft side. But he never would have been able to sit there without knowing what was going on in her mind.

She tilted her head up to his, and he suddenly regretted losing touch with her after high school. Even when they weren't dating back then, he had still been able to read every thought, feeling, ambition in her eyes. She may have been acting impassive or angry, but Lucas had always been able to see through the façade straight to the pain or the sadness or the hurt. In retrospect, he realized that had had always been able to see it, he just hadn't paid nay mind to it, never acted on it, nothing. Now he was just as lost in her eyes as he had been on the first day he had ever really talked to Brooke Davis.

Shining hazel eyes met soft, ocean-blue ones, and Brooke broke down.

"I miss this, being with someone at night. Having someone like you there."

"Brooke—"

"I always feel so _alone,_ Luke. Yeah, I have Millicent, and you, and Peyton, and everyone else, but no one really _knows_ me. I feel as if they don't really see me. I even feel as if I'm drifting away from Peyton sometimes."

With an unpleasant jolt Lucas realized that ever since she had come back, he had only seen Brooke when she was with Lindsey, or to ask for advice, or to confess his own problems to. Never, not once, had he asked how she was doing other than to start a conversation that he knew would soon be switched over to him.

She continued on, unaware of the distress in his eyes at her pain. "I need someone, Luke. Someone I can lean on, so I don't have to be so goddamn independent all the time. I mean, I come down here after tucking Jamie in, and there's no one. I haven't seen Peyton for days, Owen left, there's just no one here for me. I hate being alone." Her voice took a bitter turn, and he pulled her into a tight hug, as if relieving and protecting her from everything. Really, that's what he was trying to do. He didn't want her to feel alone, he didn't want her to have to feel independent. He wanted her to feel safe. As he embraced her, the tears turned to racking sobs and her whole body convulsed in his arms. "There's no one, and I just want someone who isn't going to break my heart."

"Your heart is going to be fine, Brooke," Lucas whispered, trying to soothe her. _As long as I'm here,_ he added in his head. She pulled back from his body to look up at him.

"How would you know, you've never had your heart smashed," she told him bitterly as she watched the pain flit across his face.

"I have Brooke," he whispered hoarsely, and her sour eyes softened.

"I'm sorry, Lucas, I didn't mean that. Peyton turned down your proposal, and Lindsey left, I'm sorry, that's two times that it has happened to you." The apology seemed to make her feel worse, and she collapsed into his arms again.

As she sobbed, he buried his face in her hair, taking in the musky coconut vanilla smell, rocking her gently back and forth and whispering words of comfort 

and solace into her ear. Soft sounds meant to console and soothe and calm, and it seemed to work. Brooke quieted, her sobs fading into gentler tears of a sorrow Lucas had rarely seen in her.

All the while, he continued to whisper into her hair, and finally, on an impulse, sighed, "It will all be ok, pretty girl." He belatedly realized the slip, having grown so accustomed to saying it that it came freely.

She raised her head from his shoulder, wonder and a certain shocked familiarity showing through her tear-stained face. The name was evoking such powerful memories in her, beautiful memories that played rapid-fire in her head…

_She had just given him the letters and, receiving no response from him, had taken off down his steps, already re-building the walls around her heart she had torn down in that moment._

"_Brooke!" he called, and she turned to see him walking down his porch steps towards her, his arms open. "I'm sorry. What you did with Chris, it's ok."_

_She was taken aback at this. "It's not, it can't be, it's too much to forgive—"_

"_Well that's too bad," he interrupted, "Because I forgive you."_

"_You can't," she cried, shaking her head as more tears fell. _

"_I just did. So you're just going to have to deal with it."_

_She looked up at him with almost disbelieving eyes. He continued: "I'm the guy for you, Brooke Davis. And I know I hurt you the last time we were together—"_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you, too" he had replied, twisting a lock of her hair before pushing it behind her ear. "Pretty Girl."_

_He led her onto the Rivercourt, where his friends were all playing._

"_This is my world, Brooke. Or at least, to used to be," he said with a small laugh, looking out of the worn blacktop._

"_I have been here before, you know."_

"_I know, but I've just never told you what this place is to me. It's not just a court; it's where I came from, it's where I belong. It's my world."_

"_So do I get to be a part of this world?"_

"_The biggest part."_

_Then Mouth had announced something from across the court, causing Brooke to look over and laugh. Then she looked back into Lucas's eyes._

"_Go get 'em, Boyfriend._

_Pretty Girl and Boyfriend._

Brooke leapt back into the present, where she was sitting, lying against Lucas Scott, and she had previously been sobbing hard against his chest. There were few tears now, though; she just looked at him with an expression that seemed to mirror his on the inside: newfound passion. Then she leaned up and kissed him, as pure and as natural as a kiss between the two of them ever could be. And then—

Lucas kissed her back.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Wow, thanks for all the amazing reviews! I love opening up my email and seeing the "Review alert" thing, and it's even better when I read all the praise, so thank you very much. They really pulled me from a dark place the other night.**

**Anyways, going back to the earlier thing I said in another chapter, about how I said that my fic was kinda straying from the essence of the show? Well, I believe that right now, we've had too much seriousness. Therefore, we'll be seeing some comic relief soon (at least, I hope it's comic), and some Naley, which is all drama free for the moment. Hang in there, we'll have some non-couple stuff in a while and some drama free stuff as well.**

**Finally, read and enjoy! And review! That would be nice too!**

_She leaned into the kiss, angling her head slightly falling deeper and deeper into his lips. He put his hands on the small of her back and held her tight. She did the same, placing her hands on the back of his neck. The kiss was full of passion, and hungry, but was still slow and meaningful and natural, unlike some of the ones that they had shared in high school. This was a kiss that was full of longing and a hidden, pent-up need for one another._

_Finally, they pulled away when the need for oxygen became too great. But they stayed embraced, resting their foreheads together. She stared at his swollen lips, then raised her hazel eyes to his icy blue ones. This time, he could read that captivating gaze, see the unspoken question on her lips:_

_What are we getting into?_

Brooke stirred in bed, the morning sun shining through the tall window. She had always loved this time of day, with the silence and pristine stillness. Brooke smiled, she was truly happy today, she didn't care why. It was a beautiful feeling, something she had not felt this strongly for a long time. She had finally kissed Lucas...

It lasted for all of about a second. The realization of what had happened last night hit her with the force of a truck, jolting her from bed. She had kissed Lucas! She ran downstairs, shock burying her happiness. She jumped the last two steps, swinging around the banister to get to the phone. _What the hell had happened last night, in her moment of temporary insanity? Had Lucas gone home? Had he stayed here? Had they done more than kiss? What—_

Brooke had just picked the phone up when she heard them in the kitchen. "And, your Aunt Brooke—"

Brooke set down the phone and walked into the kitchen, forcing a calm over herself. Jamie was sitting at the table across from him, laughing at a story Lucas was telling him. They turned to see her with matching smiling faces. "Good morning Jamie," Brooke said through a forced smile, "I need to borrow your Uncle Lucas for a moment. We will be _right_ back." Without warning she snatched Lucas by the ear and dragged him into another room.

"Aunty Brooke, did you really write 82 letters?" Jamie's voice was full of awe from the other room.

"Lucas! What the _hell _is wrong with you?" Brooke voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper.

"What are you talking about, Brooke?"

"Why the hell would you kiss me?" She waved her arms around dangerously, and Lucas leaned back in alarm.

"Brooke, I want to be the one you can lean on. I-" Brooke interrupted him.

"Lucas, Peyton loves you! I can't step in front of her for my own feelings. I won't." Brook's voice had lost some of its edge; now, she just seemed unsure of herself. "Lucas, I feel like we are going behind Peyton's back. Have you even seen her recently?"

"Yeah, Brooke I have; when I told her it wouldn't work out," Lucas said strongly. Brooke took a step back, unsure of what she was hearing. "It was a few days into Haley and Nathans vacation," he continued, "I was digging through my closet one night, and do you know what I found?" Brooke shook her head, knowing what it was but not wanting him to continue. "82 letters. 82 confessions of not only love, but vulnerability. 82 chances that you gave me to take advantage of you, but you put yourself out there anyways. You were so beautiful in that moment, and so open, I fell in love with you again." He shook his head in wonder. "And then we broke up, but they were always with me. Do you know why, five years later, I still have them?"

"Because… you never clean out your closet?" she guessed, trying (and failing) to make light of the situation.

"I kept them to hold onto you, even if it was subconsciously After High School, I felt you slipping away. You were always there, all the time I was with Peyton. You were there then, you're here now, and you always will be with me, in my heart. And I told Peyton so."

She stood there, her eyes searching for his face, looking for something but she didn't know what. Maybe some hint of a joke, maybe the truth, she had no idea. She shook her head. "Luke, really, you're not in love with me, you just think you are—"

"I told you that I fell in love with you at that moment when you handed me the letters. The other night, I re-read them all, and it happened all over again. I know Brooke. I'm sure."

Silence.

"Brooke, I want you to listen to this," he said, holding out his iPhone. Tentatively, Brooke put the headphones in.

A slow, sweet melody washed over her, one that was unknown to her, accompanied by the smooth voice of the singer—

_Pouring over photographs.  
I'm living in your letters.  
Breathe deeply from this envelope  
it smells like you and I can't be  
without that scent. It's filling me  
with all you mean to me._

Then Lucas took the headphones out of her ears. "See, Brooke?"

She ignored his question. "Who is that?" she asked, nodding at the phone.

"Dashboard Confessional— Living in Your Letters. Fits, huh? There's a reason it's one of my top played."

Brooke shook her head again, trying to push the sentiment out her head. She glanced towards the kitchen. "Lucas, can you stay with Jamie the rest of the day?" Tears began to fall from her eyes, tears that she realized had been there the whole conversation, "Nathan and Haley are supposed to be home today, and I cannot do this right now. Just, I can't." She backed towards the door, and when he didn't say anything, she left.

Lucas walked back into the kitchen listlessly, and Jamie noticed.

"What happened, Uncle Lucas?" he asked innocently.

Lucas looked at him appraisingly for a long moment before he answered.

"Jamie, I need a favor."

* * *

She slid down against the door of the sleazy motel room she had just rented, running her hands through her hair. How could he say something like that? How could he say something like that _now_, when all the evidence has been pointing to the contrary? Tears ran down her face like razorblades. She hadn't been able to handle it when he told her. She had gotten out of there as quickly as possible. She had been on the road since, not going anywhere in particular, but just driving. It calmed her, made her focus on other things. The wind flowing over the windshield and drying her tear-stained face. It was her release. For as long as she could remember, she had been doing this. Not running away, but trying to avoid the pain by escaping it. And this was the worst pain she had ever felt.

All the memories, everything she had had with him. Cookie dough. Prom. Derek. State Championship. The Mixtape. "It's you." Almost running him over with her car. The first glances, the first _real _looks where loved passed between them. The night in the motel room, when they were looking for her dad. A motel room, she decided, that looked a lot like this. This thought brought a new wave of memories washing over her, and fresh tears of pain sprung to her eyes.

How could he love _Brooke?_

What happened to True Love Always?

_It wasn't meant to be, Peyton..., _said the snide little voice in the back of her head. Or were Lucas's words just playing over and over again in her mind?

She had to do something. She had to go somewhere. Peyton had learned long ago that the only way to help heal pain was to _do _things. She paced the room like a caged tiger, trying to think of some way out of this nightmare. She loved Lucas. She had always only ever loved Lucas.

_Are you sure? _The voice asked silkily. She let loose a small scream of frustration and left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Peyton climbed into her comet, throwing it into reverse and slamming on the gas. She had to move again. She had to get out.

* * *

The sleek white jet had just begun to unload its passengers. Lucas and Jamie stood expectantly in the waiting area, Jamie fidgeting with excitement, Lucas motionless. Even a moment like this couldn't lift his spirits from after Brooke had left. But he had a plan, one that caused a small bubble of hope to rise in his chest. If all went well, that bubble would be twice its size by tonight. But there was no time to think of that. Nathan and Haley had just descended the stairs, and were on their way over, arm in arm, happiness shining through their faces like beacons.

"How was it?"Asked Lucas after hugs and hellos had been exchanged, and they were on their way to the baggage claim.

"Beautiful" replied Haley, "And it--"

"Rained a lot, too," Nathan said with a grin. Lucas and Haley laughed.

"I don't like the rain," Jamie said.

"I do," Nathan said with an even wider grin.

Haley shot her husband a rueful smile. She looked torn between being pleased with herself or embarrassed. "Where's Brooke?" she said to Lucas.

"Yeah, I gotta talk to you about that… but for now, tell me more about London." He whispered the first part, but then raised his voice.

They strode through the endlessly milling crowds and joined the throng around the baggage claim. As they waited for their bags to come around the conveyor, Haley took Lucas to one side.

"What's up with you? You seem distracted," she asked worriedly, "Oh no. Did you talk to Peyton?"

He shrugged. "Sorta. But she is not who I need your help with." Haley raised an eyebrow, then both when she heard Brooke's name.

He quickly summarized the whole story, finishing with a plea for help. "Please, all I need you to do is talk to her. She won't listen to me. Nathan can help too, if you can think of a way to include him." He gave her a desperate look.

"Lucas, I want you to be happy, and I'm not sure that you know what you want right now. Lindsey just left—"

"Haley, all I know is that I want to be with Brooke. I want to be closer to her than we are right now; it's like she's keeping me at an arms length no matter what she does."

"Um, you ever stop to think about the reason for that?" Lucas looked away, and Haley withdrew her harsh attack, and she spoke softer. "You just gotta realize those things, Luke."

"Haley, I know. Believe me." He shrugged, not knowing how else to say it.

"Are you completely sure? I don't want Brooke to have her heart broken again, and let's face it; you have a bit of a track record." Haley fingered her necklace worriedly and glanced to Nathan and Jamie. Jamie had just climbed onto the conveyor and Nathan was trying to pull him down. He seemed to have it handled, so Haley turned back to face Lucas.

"You know what she said to me one night when I came over? She talked about how alone she felt, and that's when I realized how I didn't want her to feel that way, and I wanted to be the one to fix it. And I will be, whether I have your blessing or not."

Haley sighed in defeat. "Ok. I'll help, because I want you to be happy. But I swear Lucas—"

"I promise."

"Ok, then."

Lucas just smiled.

* * *

"Hey, Millicent it's me, I just wanted to talk to you," Mouth said, wandering in circles outside the studio. "When you get this message, just call me—"

"Well, it's obvious you wanted to talk to me, you've called three times already," came Millicent's laughing voice. Mouth smiled.

"I just wanted to ask you if you were doing anything tonight,"

"Other than my date with you? I just have to see a couple more guys, and then my night will be over."

"Ha ha. Well, if that's the case, then I guess the other guys will have to miss out. Because I got two reservations to that restaurant you like, and they're at eight. And after, I have a bit more set up, just for us. And by the time you go see all those other guys, I think it'll be a little bit late. Unless you like getting home at three am. Then everything will work out."

On the other line, Millicent was smiling and nodding and agreeing occasionally, letting Mouth do all the talking. In the end, she heard him say, "So, does this sound good to you? Or do those other guys have something better?" He joked.

"Well, I guess not. Will you pick me up at seven thirty?"

"Of course. And I _promise_ not to drop you in the river this time."

"That's too bad, it was really fun," she laughed.

As they discussed the remainder of their plans, Brooke grinned and pretended to rearrange some papers on the counter so she could listen in better. The two were standing in C/B right before closing, checking off the last of the inventory. Millicent hung up the phone and looked towards Brooke's smirking face.

"What?" she asked. Brooke smiled even wider, although it wasn't an entirely innocent face.

"Other guys? Milli, I think I'm starting to rub off on you! That was a very Brooke Davis thing to say!"

Millicent just laughed. "So, Brooke," she said presently, after the fun had subsided and a more serious tone pervaded the shop. "You haven't really said anything all day. Which, to be exact, is not very _Brooke Davis _at all."

Brooke half-smiled, re-folding a shirt that was askew from the rest of the pile, using it as a distraction. "Nothing, it's ok."

Millicent cocked her head. "Brooke."

"Milli, _nothing,_" Brooke insisted. But Millicent saw Brooke jump hopefully when a sweatshirt-clad man walked past the front door of the shop. More importantly, she saw Brooke's disappointed slump after the man walked by without even looking at the shop. It wasn't anyone Brooke knew, just a man resembling a ghost of Brooke's past. Or maybe, present? Suddenly, Millicent realized something in the late afternoon sun.

"Is it Lucas?"

Brooke ignored her. "Um, ok, Millicent, I think everything's done," Brooke said, looking around the shop and idly rocking on her toes, "I guess you should go get ready for that date with Mouth, huh?"

"Uh yeah, I guess…" Millicent agreed slowly, reluctantly allowing herself to be ushered out the door. "Don't you need a ride home?"

"Me? Oh, no, I'm fine. I'm just going to hang out here for a while, then head home by way of a cab or something. But, right before your date can you swing by and lock up?" Brooke pleaded.

"Yeah, of course. Are you sure you're going to be ok?"

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine. Now, go have fun!" With that, Brooke sent Millicent on her way. As soon as her car was out of sight, Brooke sank to the ground, sliding down with her back pressed against the door and her hands covering her head.

_Everyone could tell; what was she going to do?_

* * *

_Dashboard Confessional— Living in Your Letters_

_I'm always assuming the worst,  
but you're going on nonetheless  
and there's nothing to cushion your heart led fall.  
Letters from further away  
keep pulling me close to home.  
And there's something to cushion my callous sighs.  
And I know that you hope for  
longer good-byes  
embracing for forever  
and falling in your eyes.  
(In your eyes, your eyes)_

Pouring over photographs.  
I'm living in your letters.  
Breathe deeply from this envelope  
it smells like you and I can't be  
without that scent. It's filling me  
with all you mean to me.  
(To me)

Continually failing these trials  
but you stand by me nonetheless  
and you won't let me sink  
though I'm beggin you, I'm begging you  
Phone calls from further away  
and messages on my machine,  
but I don't ever tell you this distance  
seems terrible.  
There is no need to test my heart,  
with useless space.  
These roads go on forever,  
there will always be a place, for you.. in my heart

So I'll hit the pavement  
it's gotta be better than waiting  
and pushing you far away  
cause I'm scared.  
So I'll take my chances  
and head on my way up there.  
'Cause turning to you is like falling in love when you're ten.


	10. Chapter 10

When Mouth and Millicent came into Clothes Over Bros that night, they found Brooke asleep on the lounge. "Oh boy," said Mouth, picking up the two empty ice cream tubs and the couple alcohol bottles, "Brooke's hurting. You don't want to see her when she's in one of these moods."

Millicent giggled slightly. "Oh I have, believe me."

Mouth smiled before becoming more serious. "What do you think we should do, though? I mean, you have to lock up, and we can't leave her here. Plus we have those eight o'clock reservations," Mouth reminded her.

Millicent was indecisive. But before she had a chance to respond, the door opened, and they turned to see a familiar red-head.

"I'll take her home; you two go have fun," Rachel said to their dumbstruck faces. "Look, I'll even take a cab, so no worries," She added, noting that the two of them were hesitant. Rachel gestured outside at the yellow car.

"Rachel, where've you been?" sputtered Mouth. To have her turn up on such terms, so suddenly, was rightfully shocking.

"Here and there. Now, shouldn't she get home?"

"Uh…"

Rachel sighed. "Yep, that was creative." She was still as sharp and brazen and sarcastic as ever; the partying hadn't dulled her wits at all. "Come on, Brooke took care of me, now I have to return the favor. Trust me." She looked to Mouth, and he knew she was telling the truth just by her eyes.

Mouth and Millicent finally conceded, and helped Rachel carry sleeping Brooke outside. They said good-bye and rushed off to keep their reservation.

By the time Rachel and Brooke got home, Brooke had woken up slightly, so she was able to get to the door with a lot of help from Rachel.

"Raaschel, hey buddy!" She tried to slap Rachel a high five, but missed terribly. "Whaattt… Wwhhat are you doing here?" Brooke asked with slurred words.

"Damn. How did you get so wasted off two bottles of alcohol? Whatever it is, I have to try it more often." Really, Brooke had never been drunk like this. This was the type of drunk that made one call their exes at the four in the morning and profess their love.

"It's heartbreak, Rachel, not liquor. Also, ice cream. But, _not_ liquor. Actually, a teensy, weensy bit of alcohol." Brooke held up her thumb and index finger about a millimeter apart and giggled. A second later she was sobbing. "Rascchsel, what am I going to do? He said, said, he said he _loves me?_ I mean, whassa girl to do?" She threw her hands up in exasperation and giggled sheepishly again.

Rachel snapped to attention. "Who? Who said that?"

Brooke rolled her eyes, all signs of tears gone. "Duh, Racshel, _he _did." Apparently, it should have been obvious. "And guess what else?"

"What?" Rachel sighed. She wasn't going to get anything else out of Brooke tonight, nor was she going to get any sort of entertaining fight like they used to have in high school. Rachel decided to just play along until Brooke passed out.

"Peyton's gone!"

Hmm. Scratch that. Maybe she would get something out of Brooke. This was interesting. Rachel snapped to attention again.

"Wha- why did Peyton leave? Where did she go?"

Brooke shrugged and raised her hands, palms up in an 'I don't know' sort of way. "I donno!"

"Brooke, was it something with Lucas?"

"Lucas?"

"Yes, Lucas!" Rachel cried, exasperated.

"Ahhhh, Lucas." Long Pause. "Lucas who?"

"God kill me."

But Brooke was already falling asleep on the couch. "Night, Rachel."

Sigh. "Good-night, Brooke."

Peyton stepped on the gas, watching the needle on the speedometer jump to 85. It made her feel good, going this fast, as if all her problems were being sucked away by the rushing wind. The danger made her other problems seem smaller, less worthy, and they disappeared, at least as long as she sped up.

So, fast it was.

She had been driving north for hours, letting her heart lead the way, allowing it to choose which turns or exits to take. Whenever she fancied, a right turn. When it felt right, take the exit. Peyton wasn't sure where she was going, but she had a nagging suspicion in the back of her head about her destination as it grew closer and closer. Before long, a tear slipped down her face, and the suspicion was confirmed.

Finally she stopped the car at a deserted field. The old iron gate was rusty, but she could still make out the letters at the top.

The Meadow.

She entered unsteadily, still unsure if she wanted to be here. All she knew was that it was quiet, calm, and held a special place in her heart. Some of Ellie's ashes were here. She sat in the middle of the expanse, where she had sat so many years ago. She had been heartbroken then, too. The grass rustled around her, even though there was no wind. She looked up into the sky, and gave a teary smile.

_It's never too late, Peyton._

The next morning, Brooke woke up with a horribly pounding head, and her eyes squinted against the light. With a smile, she imagined she must have looked very Lucas-like. It was strange how different this morning was from yesterday, but she didn't want to dwell on that. She just laid there for a moment. _Eh, I'll just get up for lack of anything better to do, _she thought, then rolled off the couch and onto her feet. Brooke walked into the kitchen, trying to remember everything that had happened last night. She fell into a seat at the table and covered her face.

"Ugh, Rachel, make the room stop spinning."

"Hey, girl-who-gets-drunk-off-ice-cream. Breakfast?" Rachel's voice carried a sarcastic undertone that had existed since high school. Brooke declined.

"Suit yourself." Rachel sat down across from her at the table, her plate of food untouched. Brooke stared at her silently.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been so entertained by your drunkenness before; it was pretty funny watching you like that." Rachel shrugged in something resembling a challenge, as if trying to lure Brooke into one of their entertaining arguements.

Brooke raised an eyebrow, but said nothing on that matter. "So, what happened after you left?"

"You mean, after I stole your cash and went AWOL? Nothing much."

"Where'd you go?"

"Florida, like I said. I did say that, didn't I? Whatever. I went down to Miami, hit the beach for a while, stopped using drugs, didn't stop using guys, the works. When in Rome, you know?"

Brooke laughed. "Anything else in the wild adventures of Rachel Gatina and Brooke Davis's cash?"

"Nah. And hey, at least I sent the money back intact. Well, mostly intact," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "You get rid of the hag who was running your business?"

"My mom? She's long gone. I hope."

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that you got your dad's genes." After that, the conversation hit a dead end, and the two simply enjoyed the silence. Rachel still didn't touch her food.

"So, how did you find out Lucas still loves you?" Rachel asked suddenly, nonchalantly fingering the edge of her glass, as casually as if they were discussing the weather. It seemed as though she had finally gotten to the point of the whole conversation. She leaned in, as if waiting for juicy gossip. Brooke stiffened.

"How did you know about that?"

"Brooke. You and I both know that there is only one guy who could make you cry like I know you were: Lucas. Plus, you kept muttering that Lucas loves you during your sleep. That was a bit of a giveaway. I just had to put together the pieces." She grinned in a half-snide, half-joking, all satisfied sort of way. Brooke glared.

"Rachel, it doesn't matter what he told me; he is the one for Peyton. I am not going to fall for him again to have him break my heart."

"So he told you something, huh? What was it?"

"For Gods sake, how do you work these things out of me?" Brooke asked, throwing her arms up exasperatedly.

"Hidden talent. Now, tell me." Brooke sighed, leaning back in defeat.

"He just said that I'm the one that he wants to be with, and that he wants to be the one that I can lean on. But he didn't mean it, he was just—"

Rachel stood up. "Let me show you something." She led a protesting Brooke out the door by one wrist.

They said nothing throughout the short car ride, save for the few times Brooke had asked of their destination and Rachel had ignored her. Eventually, Brooke gave up and took to watching the scenery fly by.

Rachel took a valiant, teasing stab at conversation. "So… Brooked yourself at all lately?" Brooke just glared at her while Rachel cracked up.

Soon enough, though, Rachel became serious again. She parked the car and led Brooke out onto the River court. "Remember the draft dates, when you slept with Keller and I went Lucas?" As she said this, she walked to the center of the asphalt, waving her arms around as if trying to signify that night. The river sparkled next to the pair, and the wind rustled the trees around them.

"I'm trying to forget," said Brooke with a glare, following her.

"Well, on our date, Lucas couldn't stop talking about you. How you were the one, how it was meant to be. Extremely annoying, let me tell you, especially since I was planning on sleeping with him. Needless to say, I didn't believe him. So I put it to the test."

"How can you test that?" Brooke was confused and skeptical, but a part of her was longing to hear more. A part that she didn't even realize was there until now. Rachel went to her car pulled out a basketball. She offered it to Brooke.

"Can you do something for me, Brooke? Shoot. I just wanna see something."

Brooke rolled her eyes. Right now, she didn't care about basketball. But she shot anyway, and was rewarded with the harsh smack of the ball against the backboard before rebounding and almost hitting Rachel. It didn't come anywhere close to the net.

Rachel grabbed the ball and gave Brooke a snort of derision. "Nice shot."

"Shut up. Now, can you tell me about that night of the draft dates? How did you test Lucas?" Brooke was impatient, but was pleasantly surprised by Rachel's straight answer, even if it didn't make any sense.

"I blindfolded him. Gave him a basketball, then told him to shoot." Rachel shrugged. "Told him to call upon 'Destiny' or whatever was going to bring you two together. He makes it, it is meant to be. If he doesn't, it is not meant to be. So he shot."

"And what happened?" Brooke still tried to be skeptical and impassive, but the part of her that was longing for this was growing stronger; she could hear it on her own voice.

Rachel rolled her eyes and gave Brooke the same 'duh' look Rachel had received last night. "Besides me getting naked? He made it. And then, just a few days after that, you were together again."

Brooke sat down, not encouraged. "Rachel, he made that shot because he is a basketball player. It's his job, or something like that. 'Destiny' didn't have anything to do with it." Brooke rolled her eyes. _Destiny. How stupid. The only thing Lucas was destined for was Peyton, and even Rachel thought that when Lucas was with Peyton__._ Brooke told Rachel this.

"I never said that. Yeah, sure: I may have projected it, but somewhere this shot was always in the back of my mind, holding me back from flat out saying that they were meant to be, even if I didn't think about it consciously."

"You mean the BS: the Bull Shot?" Brooke challenged. Rachel sneered.

"Really?" she said, one eyebrow raised. Rachel went to her car and grabbed something out of the trunk, and held it out to Brooke. "You try."

Brooke stared at the blindfold in Rachel's outstretched hands.

Then she gave half laugh. "Rachel. It isn't going to work--" but she was interrupted by the blindfold covering her face. She felt the basketball in her hands. "Rachel, this is ridiculous. It is not going to happen." Brooke ran her hands over the soft, textured rubber, feeling the ridges and bumps. This felt so alien to her; just another reason why she and Lucas weren't compatible.

"Brooke, what is with you? Had I told you this in high school, you would have grabbed the ball and shanked it off the backboard, had it not meant anything. Then I would have cracked up, but that's beside the point. What happened to that Brooke, the one who didn't care about stuff like that? The real Brooke?" Her question was not one easily answered, but Brooke finally found words.

"That Brooke was tempered by Lucas. What she didn't get from Lucas, though, was a belief in destiny. Or basketball skills, for that matter."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Go on, shoot."

Brooke sighed. Here she was; Brooke Davis, famous fashion designer, hung over at 9 A.M. on a junky old basketball court with an ex-model friend who she hadn't seen for four months and who had previously been hooked on heroin and more, blindfolded, about to attempt a basketball shot that her cheating ex-boyfriend had once made, to see if said ex (who she may or may not be completely in love with) could possibly be meant for her.

_What a life I lead. _

It was like a twisted daytime soap opera, but real.

But however much Brooke outwardly disagreed with the whole thing, secretly, on some level, she was excited. Lucas had already made it. He had shot because he believed in them, in their relationship even in the darkness of her mistake. In her mind, Brooke danced around the word _love_. But he had taken a chance, hadn't he? And because of his chance, they had gotten back together. Now it was her turn. What the hell. She put the ball up...


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey everyone. Just wanted to say that I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but there are some necessary things that have to be said, so this has those plus some extra stuff as a filler so it is appropriate chapter length. So, read and I hope you enjoy!**

_Swish._

Her heart jumped to her throat, but she bit her lip regretfully when she realized it was only the trees surrounding the small court.

Brooke was still blindfolded. She had just shot, but Rachel hadn't said anything, nor did the sound of the basket betray any secrets. All she heard was the gentle whisper of the wind, the sound of the ball bouncing once, and then…nothing. Just calm and her own breathing.

She waited in an anxious but nonchalant silence. She wasn't supposed to care. Her and Lucas finished in high school. There was nothing more, and for her to want something more when Peyton did as well would be selfish. In a nutshell, she _couldn't_ care.

But she did.

She felt the ball put back in her hands.

"Shoot again." Rachel said quietly. Brooke put the ball up, and she felt it leave her 

hands, but she didn't hear anything again. Then the ball was handed to her again. "Shoot again." Rachel's voice was unusually quiet. Unnaturally quiet.

"Rachel, it doesn't matter. I--" Brooke started to protest, but Rachel interrupted her.

"Shoot. Just one more time. I just wanna see something."

Brooke let an irritated sigh escape from her lips; maybe she hadn't made it at all, and Rachel was just waiting until Brooke made it. But she still shot again, still hearing nothing.

"Ok, then," Rachel said, still not allowing her voice to betray any secrets. "Go ahead."

Brooke ripped the blindfold off quickly, eagerly glancing to the basket as if it would tell her that she was meant to be with Lucas. Unsurprisingly, it revealed nothing, so she looked at Rachel. "What happened?" Her excitement bled out of her at the sight of Rachel's impassive face.

"Well," Rachel took a deep breath, "you made it."

Brooke could have jumped, but once again, the reality of everything this meant hit her once again. "Rachel, it doesn't mean anything. It was just luck. Just because Lucas says I was the one doesn't mean he was telling the truth. He and Peyton were together not too long after that, maybe…" She shrugged when she realized she was rambling.

Rachel threw the basketball across the court. "God Dammit, Brooke!" The 

ball bounced away, abandoned in the tension. Rachel let loose a small scream of frustration, rubbing her face as she walked away from Brooke across the court. "What the hell happened to you? Are you that afraid of getting your heart broken again that you can't even do something like this?" Rachel whirled and quickly advanced to a taken aback Brooke.

She gritted her teeth and bent closer to Brooke's face, speaking dangerously. "You made the shot three damn times in a row, without even hitting the backboard or rim. Give in already. Lucas may not have meant it that night, although I think he did, but somewhere deep down he confirmed it, whether he wanted to or not. He was in love with you, and from what I can see he still is, and he always will be, whether he knows it or not."

Brooke shook her head in denial.

"Brooke, what about everything he said while you were together. What about the, "Your the one"s and the "I love you,"s, huh? What about that night in the rain you told me about?" Rachel was getting to her now; she could tell by the look on Brooke's face. "That stuff doesn't just _vanish,_ Brooke, especially with someone like Lucas. Maybe he buried it, but it will always be there. He just chose to realize it, to act on it, now. So what are you going to do?" She finished her tirade with a questioning raise of her eyebrows, and Brooke said nothing.

"Guess what, momma?" Jamie asked from the backseat of Lucas's mustang. 

Nathan and Jamie sat in the backseat, and Haley rode next to Lucas in the front. They were all on their way back from lunch, to celebrate Nathan and Haley's homecoming.

"What?" Haley asked absently.

"I got Uncle Lucas to come over, like you told me to!"

Lucas glanced at his nephew in the rear-view mirror as Haley looked nervously over at Lucas. "What do you mean, you got me to come over?"

"Um, Lucas…" Haley said, trying to hide a smile. "What did Jamie tell you?"

"Jamie just told me that he was being bad and that I should come over to teach him a lesson," said Lucas simply.

"He did? Wow, my son's genius!" Nathan laughed, and he proudly ruffled Jamie's hair. Jamie looked very pleased.

"Hales, what where you trying to do? What did you tell Jamie?"

Haley grinned and bit her lip, facing away from Lucas. "Uh, nothing, Luke. We just wanted you to come over some more while we were away."

Lucas rolled his eyes and laughed. "For Brooke?"

Haley's barely concealed smile and Nathan's laughter confirmed his answer. "You know, I'm not sure if I can trust you three anymore! Hales, you're like an evil genius."

Haley didn't say anything for the rest of the ride home, but Nathan caught her 

satisfied smile every few minutes. She obviously delighted in her new nickname.

"So you two set that whole thing up, with Brooke babysitting and everything?"

Lucas and Nathan stood at the counter in the Naley house, while Haley sat with Jamie on the couch. They four had just gotten home from lunch.

Nathan laughed. "Don't look at me, man. It's my evil-genius wife and our son. They're the brains of the operation."

Lucas echoed his laugh. "Well, thanks, little brother. I meant a lot for you to do that."

"No problem." They paused for along moment, watching the two on the couch.

"So, you happy to be home?"

"Yeah. London was great, but we missed Jamie so much. Although, he seems more excited at the possibility that you and Brooke may be together than of us coming home," Nathan added, laughing again. Lucas joined him.

"Well, I think I'm going to get now. You two probably want to relax." As Lucas said this, Haley rose from the couch.

"Ok, Luke, thanks again for staying with him. And if you see Brooke at all, tell her to come over, I haven't seen her yet." Haley shrugged, obviously missing her friend. But it was true. Brooke had steered clear of the house since yesterday, knowing that Lucas would probably be there.

"She's probably at the boutique; why don't you go visit her later?"

"Yeah, Momma!" Jamie cheered.

"Ok, Jamie," Haley smiled and ruffled his hair lightly and gave Lucas a hug before he left.

It was almost the afternoon by the time Karen woke up. Or, rather, by the time Lily came running up to the bed, yelling for her mom to get up as she did most days.

"Wake up, Mom!"

"Alright, alright…" Karen murmured sleepily, then rolled over. "Five more minutes…"

"Mom!"

"Ok, I'm up," Karen laughed, sitting up in bed as Andy came around the corner. Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Who is it now?" Karen asked aloud, a slight confusion overshadowing her happiness, and it was easily recognized by Andy and even Lily. Karen leaned, intending to look around Andy to the closed front door, as if trying to see through it.

"I'll get it!" Lily offered, already taking off.

"Hold on, there," Andy said, grabbing Lily around the waist much like Lucas had done with Jamie a couple nights ago. "Maybe we should let your mom get this." Karen nodded her thanks before getting up and slipping a robe on and going to the door.

"Hello?" Her face fell when she saw who was standing there. "You don't need to be here; in fact, leave before I call the cops and send you back to jail." Karen's voice had a tone of menace to it that even Dan was taken aback at.

"Karen, I just want to get to know my niece," Dan said with a nasty undertone, much subtler than Karen's but just as dangerous.

"Dan, Karen's right; leave." Andy appeared at Karen's shoulder, surprising Dan.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite New Zealander, Randy! Step out, you're not even related to them."

"I'm a helluva lot closer to them than you are, Dan," Andi said, stepping forward in front of Karen protectively. Dan ignored him.

"Look, Karen, I just want to meet my niece: you let Keith meet his nephew…" Dan threw that in their faces because he knew how it would sting. Yeah, he felt remorse for what he had done, and he would take it back if possible. But he wanted to know Lily, and he also knew how it would affect Karen and even Andy. He would do whatever it took to know his niece.

Karen took a threatening step forward, fire in her eyes, but Andy held her back. Dan nodded at him.

"Good idea, Hargrove. And Karen, I'm going to be in her life." He turned to leave on that note, only to find himself face to face with Lucas. Luke wasn't smiling.

"Get the hell out of here, Dan."

"Well, Lucas, I figured you'd be bedding up with your newest girl— who is it this week? Lindsey? Peyton? Brooke?"

"Dan—" that was Andy. Lucas glanced towards him, breaking his eye-contact with Dan for a brief second, but Lucas showed no signs of happiness to see him, not even recognition.

"Dan, I want you to leave my family alone."

Dan leaned forward. "I am your family."

That was when Lucas punched him. He didn't know what had possessed him to do it, but by the time Lucas had even realized what happened, Dan was on the floor. He was shocked, most likely mirroring the image on Lucas's face. But Lucas knew that the shock on his own face was quickly bleeding out, being replaced with anger that had been there a second before. Lucas leaned down.

"Stay away from all of them. Lily, my mom, Brooke, everyone."

Dan jerked up, brushing himself off. Lucas stared him down the entire time, ignoring the couple in the doorway. Dan straightened his jacket, glaring at Lucas. But in a second his face changed, changed to a sly, cunning look that had been on his face too often in Lucas's high school years.

"Brooke, huh?" Lucas stomach dropped, but he refused to show his fear.

"I want you to stay away from everyone."

"Huh. I'll go Lucas, but just remember: Lily isn't the only person who will be seeing more of me."

Dan nodded to Lucas, Karen, and Andy, and stepped off the porch, a new spring in his step that Lucas didn't like.

"Do you think we should get back to the boutique soon?" Rachel asked Brooke.

The two sat on the Rivercourt, eating the breakfast that Rachel had thrown in the car before they left Brooke's house. After Rachel's tirade, Brooke had shaken her head in the face of Rachel's question.

"_So, what are you going to do?" The question hung in the almost tangible air as Rachel stared Brooke down. But then, Brooke returned the glare and Rachel could see Brooke's muscles stiffen, as if she was about to punch the red-head._

"_Huh. So there's actually a person in there," Rachel said with a satisfied smirk. "Now that we've gotten past that, how about you tell me your next move?"_

_Brooke shook her haad, resigning herself to the fact that Rachel hadn't changed _

_since high school, nor was she going to give up. "I'm going to keep going, doing what I've been doing for the past four and a half months— just living. Lucas can do what he wants."_

_Rachel nodded, surprising Brooke by accepting the plan. "Alright. But don't think that nothing is going to come of this, Brooke…" _

After that, Rachel had gone and gotten the food, and they hadn't said another word on the subject of Lucas and Brooke.

Until now.

"So, how was the kiss?"

"How'd you know about that?" Brooke asked sharply, instantly becoming alert. But a hidden smile played on her lips.

"Nothing gets by me, Davis," Rachel said with a challenging look. Brooke threw the basketball at her. Rachel ducked, then came back up with a rueful glare. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the basketball. "Except for that."

Brooke laughed. "But how did you know about the kiss?"

"Truthfully, I didn't. I just keep throwing stuff out there until you react to it, and then I know I hit the mark. You're so easy to read, Brooke."

"Says the girl who has never read a book in her life."

"You're one to talk." Broke gave her a glare, and Rachel returned it before falling silent. But she spoke up once more.

"Brooke, I think that everything will be fine. With Lucas, I mean." For once, Rachel's face was serious, and she tried to assure Brooke. Brooke just swallowed and focused on the basket above them.

"I think we should get back to the boutique now."

Haley and Jamie headed to the front door. "Alright, Nate, Jamie and I are going to go find Brooke and hear her side of things."

"Can we get an ice cream on the way?" Jamie asked.

"Well, how many did you have while we were away?" Nathan countered, walking up behind the pair.

"Uh, none," said Jamie innocently. He ran out the front door before  
Nathan or Haley could question him again. In the calm, Nathan wrapped his arms around Haley.

"Hales, I'm so glad we went to London," He said, resting his chin on her head the same way he used to in high school. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. The late afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over the couple.

"Me too. I really hated being without you these past few weeks."

"Haley, I was here. We were together."

"But we weren't—" Haley paused, looking for the right word. "_Together_. But we are now."

"Yeah," Nathan agreed, keeping his arms wrapped around her. "London was beautiful."

"Uh-huh. The Thames, and the Tower Bridge, and everything else; it was perfect."

"You know, Haley, I'm so glad I get to spend my life with you like this. Had I never met you, I'd probably be alone right now, and without any form of basketball or anything. I'd be a shell of who I am now."

"Me too." They enjoyed the silence for another moment, and then Haley pulled away slowly. "Alright, if I don't go now I never will." She gave a slight laugh, then angled her head up for a kiss.

"I love you, Hales."

"I love you too, Nathan."


	12. Chapter 12

The car came to a slow stop in front of C/B. Rachel shut it off and turned to her friend.

"You good?" There was another moment when it was just a straight, serious, concerned question from the red head.

"For one of the first times today, yeah. I'm safe here, you know?" Brooke looked up at the shop with endearing eyes. "This is all mine, and my mom can't touch it, no one can. I did it entirely myself."

"It feels good to have something like that, doesn't it?" Rachel followed Brooke's gaze.

Suddenly, Brooke turned to Rachel. "You know what? You're right."

"I know," Rachel murmured, not looking at Brooke but nodding and keeping her eyes on the store. "Right about what?"

"I am too serious now, and I don't want to be. I just wanna lay back, and not worry about the consequences for once; screw Lucas!"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel agreed, staring distractedly out the window at nothing in particular All of a sudden, she jolted up. "Wait, what? No! No, no, no! That was not the point of me waking up at eight am! As much as I'm for screwing people, I meant take chances, throw yourself out there, not ditch the guy you're meant to be with! Your heart'll be fine, you made the shot."

"Thanks, Rachel." But the red-head could still sense reluctance in Brooke. "But, we need to finally talk a bit about you. You're staying in Tree Hill for good, right?" Brooke asked concernedly.

"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood to steal your cash again, so I'm grounded here." Rachel shrugged noncommittally with a smile. Brooke smiled as well and shook her head at her friend's eternal sarcasm.

"Well, then, I don't suppose you'd like a job, Miss Gatina?"

"Brooke, really?"

"Of course! You need a job; I need someone to kick back with at work, so it all works out! And, as Millicent will be spending more time with Mouth, I need a mannequin to fit clothes on after hours. God knows Milli gets tired of it."

"A mannequin? Like a dummy?"

Brooke smiled dryly. "Yup. You'd fit nicely." She gave a fake sneer. Rachel returned it. "Well, I guess I gotta go now since I haven't been in all day. I just gotta work out some more designs; I haven't had any inspiration at all lately." She climbed out of the big SUV and walked up the steps to the boutique.

"Hey, B. Davis," Rachel called, and Brooke turned back around. "It'll all be fine." Rachel nodded at her, and Brooke smiled. With a small wave, Rachel's car pulled away from the curb, and Brooke went inside.

* * *

Peyton's car screamed down the highway, but Peyton heard nothing. Inside her head, those four little words echoed around her mind, blocking out all other sound. "It's never too late, Peyton". It wasn't too late too go back physically, and it wasn't too late to go back emotionally. Most of all, it wasn't too late for Lucas.

Then, there was the matter of Brooke. She'd get what was coming to her, and Peyton would be the one to give it. Brooke had gone after Lucas when she knew Peyton's feelings, and Peyton also had the suspicion that Brooke was the reason that had Lucas broken up with her that day in TRIC.

She was on her way home. The meadow had opened her mind, the breeze brought back memories. "It's never too late, Peyton." Ellie had taught her how to really live life, and hiding or running from her problems wasn't living. She knew, somewhere deep down, that she needed to get back. She needed to return to that empty town of broken memories and dreams and set things right for herself. Her car sped down the highway, urged forward by the wind. _Rush, rush, rush,_ it seemed to be saying. It was as if Lucas was slipping away the longer she was gone, and she had to get back to keep him. A tear slipped from her eye.

* * *

Lucas's phone blared from the nightstand, vibrating and ringing loudly at the same time. He jolted from his doze on his bed, hastening to silence it before it woke his sister, who was napping next to him with her head buried in the crook of his neck.

Since Karen and Andy had come back from traveling, they had been staying with Lucas at home. But, Lucas knew that his mom was itching to start traveling again, and he wondered how much longer they would stay.

"Hello?" he whispered.

"Hey, Luke it's me," came Nathan's voice, "What's up?"

Lucas carefully slid away from Lily before answering. His little sister seemed so angelic, so sweet, so innocent with her brown locks spilling over the pillow and her small chest rising and falling. He took a moment to look at her with endearing eyes before turning his attention back to the phone.

"Didn't I talk to you like, two hours ago?" he asked, walking into the living room.

"Yeah, but we didn't get a chance to talk about what I really wanted to discuss, and since Haley isn't here right now…"

"Brooke?" Lucas guessed.

"Brooke," Nathan confirmed.

"Of course. I just don't feel I need to explain myself," Luke sighed. But he knew that this was a delicate situation, one that nobody would understand but himself.

And Lucas wasn't even sure he understood the reason behind all of this.

"I know, man, and I believe you, and I'll support you whatever. But I just wanna know what's going on for Hales…"

"Yeah, I know."

Nathan heard the sigh, and thought about how hard this must be for his brother. Ever since Lucas joined the basketball team in junior year, he had been thrown into a mess of relationships and breakups and drama, stuff that kept going on for years afterward. Nathan felt a twinge of sympathy, but still admired Lucas for putting up with it all.

It was a confusing mess of love triangles and rectangles, and one that Nathan had intimately watched for the past few years, without getting too involved. His curiosity about all of it finally got the best of him in this moment, and he couldn't help but ask, "What about Peyton?"

Nathan envisioned Lucas rolling his eyes and grinning ruefully; Luke had been expecting something like this. "Peyton is just—Peyton, you know? For so long, I thought we were going to be something. And then, we were, and we fit. We matched. We were like one mind, we could communicate on another level, it was just… easy."

Nathan snorted. "So, what was the problem? You two were perfect."

"That's just it. We were perfect. It was too easy. Monotonous. The same, expected. It was easy to be with Peyton, it didn't take work."

"Again, what was the problem?"

"Nothing! It was great! But, Brooke—"

"She was like a fireworks display, wasn't she? Loud, powerful, blinding, insane."

"Exactly!" Lucas exclaimed, glad that someone finally understood what he had been trying to put words to. "Just like a fireworks display… rolling booms of thunder, explosions of light, the oohs and ahhs of the crowd… and then, the side that no one really pays attention to: the fading colors, when all that's left is the glimmer against the night sky, and the negative of the image whenever you close your eyes, the calm after the storm… that's Brooke."

For a moment, Nathan didn't say anything. "That was pretty poetic, Luke."

Lcuas laughed humorlessly. "I think I've used more analogies in the past week than I have in my entire life. But seriously, Nate, I'm a writer, and I can't even put words to it; that was the best I could do. I just… crave that. I need that chaos and difficulty and life that she brings."

"What about that book, the one with the comet and the scientist? Peyton's car is a comet—"

"Nathan, you've known me for what, seven years now? Don't you think that I would write about something a bit more meaningful than a car?" On this, Lucas sounded confident; he had reiterated this point a thousand times.

"Yeah, Luke, I do know you. Now, maybe you didn't right that book about someone, but when Peyton came back to Tree Hill, that's when you started writing again. Explain that to me," Nathan said firmly.

"Well, first off, Brooke came back that same time as well, in case you forget. No one seems to remember that," he said, almost to himself, "But that's beside the point. I don't know for sure what exactly triggered me writing again. However, I have an idea about it. About four moths ago, Lindsey walked into my room with a picture. It was all of us when we won the college championship. That was an amazing night," he sighed, remembering, "I talked to Whitey, on the bus, and he helped me decide what I wanted to do. I was in LA the next morning, ready to propose to Peyton. And she turned me down."

"Look, I'm sorry about that—"

Lucas continued, unperturbed by the interruption. "I was lost. Numb. Cold. Meaningless. It was as if I crashed after a high; I withdrew from myself on that plane ride to New York.

"And then, there was Brooke, in the bar. We spent the entire night having fun and getting drunk and getting free stuff, pretending we were married. She took me back to the hotel, and she told me to go out there and be the best writer I can be. She gave me a direction that night, and I didn't see her again until she turned up in Tree Hill. My point is, Lindsey reminded me of that night, and that's when I started writing again," he said with finality.

And then, Nathan said something that surprised Lucas the most: "Ok, I believe you." Nathan had been the first person to hear Lucas out, not ask any questions not offer any advice, just support him in whatever way he needed. Lucas told Nathan this, and thanked him for it.

"Hey, that's what little brother's are for, right? Look, I just want you to be happy, Luke. And I know you will be with Brooke; there's a certain— tenderness— in your voice when you talk about her. I have the same thing with Haley."

Lucas nodded. "Thanks, Nate."

"Hey, I'll help however. I'm here for you, Lucas."

* * *

"Well, look who it is! My favorite tutor—well, teacher now— and her "innocent" tutor son!" Brooke put air quotes around innocent before giving them both hugs. Haley and Jamie had just walked into C/B, and Jamie had a small backpack on. It was late in the afternoon, and the store was empty. Brooke was glad for the company.

"Look who it is! The friend I hired as a babysitter but haven't seen since I got back!" Haley countered good-naturedly.

"Look who it is," Jamie joined in, "Brooke!" He put little air quotes around 'Brooke'.

"Hey, bud, I don't think you've got it quite yet," Haley laughed, walking with Brooke over to the couches.

"Haha. It's good to see you, Haley. Tell me about London!" The two sat down, and Jamie stood in front of Brooke, looking somewhat expectantly at his mother.

"Ok—" Haley started, but then she caught her sons eye "—but first, I think Jamie has some stuff he wants to show you. Why don't you go get it, Jame?" Jamie nodded and ran off to his bag, which he had left near the counter.

"So, how was London?" Brooke urged again.

"It was perfect. I owe you so much for that idea and for taking care of everything while we were away. Was Jamie good for you?"

Brooke assured Haley with a wave of her hand. "Oh, he was fine, don't worry about it," Brooke laughed, looking at the four year old, who was currently drawing a picture. "So," Brooke started casually, not looking Haley in the eye, "Did it… rain a lot?" She bit her tongue to keep from laughing.

"Yes," Haley said discreetly, looking both pleased and embarrassed and trying not to laugh as well. "It was the best honeymoon we never had."

"Oh, very—" Then Jamie interrupted them by handing Brooke a picture. "—nice." Brooke's face fell when she looked at it and she gave a sad sort of laugh.

"What is it?" Haley asked, leaning over to look. She had a pretty good idea of what it was, but she still wanted to see.

In big red letters at the top, Jamie had written, "Aunty Brooke loves Uncle Lucas" Below it was a picture of two figures hugging. Next to them was a box with a bunch of envelopes in it. Jamie immediately sat down to draw another picture. Through Brooke's forced laugh, Haley tried to read her face.

"Jamie, was this what you were drawing while I was babysitting you?"

"Aunt Brooke, I'm not a baby. I'm four. Yes, I drew this for you. Here's another one!"

He held up another picture. Brooke took it, looking at another image of her and Lucas.

Haley saw the sad, longing smile on Brooke's face and realized that the girl needed some time alone. "Well, is there anything you need, Brooke?" Haley asked, standing up. She pretended to ignore that it was of Lucas, and simply skimmed over the fact. She didn't want Brooke knowing, not yet, that she was behind the whole idea of Lucas coming over. Even if Lucas did know. "We're just going to get out of here." Brooke nodded, and Haley went to corral Jamie from the back, where he was playing with foam peanuts.

After a quick goodbye, Haley and Jamie went out the front door. But before she managed to put Jamie in the car, he wriggled out of her arms.

He stopped before the steps of the shop, looking at a small brown package on the steps below him. Brooke had been so preoccupied when she had come in, she had missed it. She watched Jamie pick it up and run inside.

"Here, Brooke!"

"Jamie—"

"It says your name on it!"

And so it did. The package wasn't shipped; most likely it had been dropped there by someone, a passerby. Brooke could see that it had wrapped by rough hands, hands that were unused to this sort of thing, but stilll cared enough to try. Brooke's name was scrawled untidily across the front.

It was small and rectangular, but thicker and heavier than it appeared. With tender hands (highly unusual for Brooke) she opened it. A small, brightly gift-wrapped package tumbled down from the paper, landing with a soft thud on the floor. Brooke bent down carefully and picked it up gently.

"Jamie!" Haley's call cut through the moment, and Brooke looked up to see Haley holding the door open for her son. "Well, thanks again Brooke, for watching him," she said, waving good-bye. "Just call if you need anything. Oh, and tell me what's in the package later!"

As she drove away, Haley had a pretty good idea of what the package was and she knew who sent it, but she didn't bother to tell Brooke. She didn't feel the need to. It would explain itself shortly. Haley grinned, looking in the rearview mirror and wishing she could see Brooke's reaction.

Back at the shop, Brooke resumed fingered the package deftly. Then, unable to wait any longer, she tore the wrapping off.

It was a book. There was no lettering on the cover, no pictures; it was just a simple, black, small book. Brooke was surprised. While she _did_ read, when people thought of Brooke Davis, 'reader' didn't exactly come to mind.

There was no card that accompanied the book, no indication of any sort, save for a small, nagging suspicion in the back of her head that Brooke quickly snuffed out.

Curious as to who could have sent it, Brooke flipped to the first page and saw the short, handwritten dedication. It was written in the same hand as the package lettering, and certainly made things change.

_To my Comet_


	13. Chapter 13

It's a strange thing when you realize that the place you've been running from is the place you need to return to the most.

Strange, but not uncommon.

It was night now, and Peyton sped through the darkness down the deserted road with a sort of anxious determination. She had calmed down by this time; thought and reason were beginning to work their way back into her head. Lucas was upset over Lindsey. He was always confused over a bad break-up, which was why he hadn't come to back Peyton after he had broken up with Brooke in senior year. Now, he was just using Brooke as a rebound, just like he had way back in junior year when Peyton turned him down at first.

She was confident. Happy, even. With every mile-marker she passed, a new piece of a new plan formed in Peyton's head. She would go to him, give him one of the speeches he had always given her. Lucas had always saved her. Now it was her turn to save him.

Marker 220. She would be home by night tomorrow. Her plan kept forming.

By marker 227, she had it. Simple, but perfect. She would go home, take a shower. Slip into something he would like. Then, the battle charge to his house, and she would confess. Of course, there would probably be a side trip where Brooke's hair got ripped out, but that didn't seem noble enough to be formally placed into her plan. All that mattered was that Lucas would finally receive a famous speech, like the ones he had been giving over the last few years.

Peyton would get him back.

Because sometimes they come back.

* * *

The door slammed shut with a resounding bang through the house, and Nathan jumped from his chair in the kitchen. Going into the entryway, he jammed his hands into his pockets with a warm smile.

"Hey, Hales. Um, what did the door do to get in so much trouble?" Haley had just gotten home from C/B with Jamie.

Haley jumped eagerly towards him, but then stepped back aloofly. "Oh I'm not mad, just… ecstatic." She shrugged with a roll of her eyes. Nathan grinned. His wife could certainly keep 'em on the hook.

"Why, what'd you do?"

Haley glanced down to Jamie, who was loitering near her legs. "Hey, Jame, why don't you go get up into bed? I'll be up to say goodnight in a minute."

He nodded, obviously too tired to disagree as he usually did. He wandered up the stairs, rubbing his bleary eyes.

Once Jamie was upstairs, Haley and Nathan walked together into the living room. They sat together on the couch. Nathan slapped a hand on Haley's thigh.

"Now, what's got you so delighted?"

Haley shrugged, looking away with a smile. "Oh, you know, wheels set in motion, things happening. The usual."

"With Brooke and Lucas, huh?" Nathan suggested mildly. Haley broke and turned to him.

"Oh, alright, yes! Lucas is finally starting to do stuff on his own. I really think this could work!" Nathan laughed at the complete collapse of Haley's façade. But his face became somber, quickly.

"But you're still worried," he said. It wasn't a question.

She stopped bubbling and her face became stony. "No I'm not," Haley said quickly.

"You're Haley James-Scott; Worrying is in your nature. It's an instinct!"

"Oh, shut up, Nate." But she conceded the point. "I'm going to go tuck in Jamie." Haley stuck her tongue out at him before jumping off the couch and going upstairs.

When she returned, Nathan was still on the couch. "He asleep?" Nathan asked when Haley plopped down.

Haley snorted. "He was _out_. Jamie didn't even hear me come in."

"Alright then," Nathan smiled, "What's got you so worried?"

She examined her finger nails. "Just all of this stuff with Brooke and Lucas," she muttered.

"Haley, I thought that was what you wanted to happen!" Nathan said incredulously.

"Yeah, well, not this well! I'm afraid now that Lucas doesn't know what he wants because I threw Brooke into the mix, and that he won't be true to her." Haley dropped the hand she had been scrutinizing and fell into Nathan's arms. They wrapped around her, and his strong arms made everything go away; all the worries and problems and issues that were happening right now would be ok.

"Hales, it'll be fine."

"I just don't want Brooke to have to get her heart broken again is all," she sighed into Nathan's chest. "I don't know if Lucas can be true."

"He can," Nathan said, in the same confident tone he had used a second ago. "I talked to him about it today. I trust him. You should too: he's your best friend since grade school. He'll make the right decision."

"Yeah," Haley agreed in a whispered word.

"But then there's the matter of Brooke. Doesn't she not want any of it?"

"No," Haley said, "it's more that she doesn't want to stand between Lucas and Peyton. I can tell she still loves him, I think everyone can. Even Rachel is trying to help; I saw her dropping Brooke off today and I could see how reserved Brooke was after talking to Rachel. It's now just a matter of convincing her Lucas is sure and that he won't break her heart again. But she's been avoiding him."

"Mm-hmm," Nathan said, deep in thought. "So what we need to do is get them together, like in the same room… And—"

Haley sat up. "And they'll have to face each other!" she finished triumphantly. "Nathan, you're verrry devious," Haley purred, biting her tongue.

"Well, you must be rubbing off on me, Haley James. You know, Jamie is already asleep…"

Haley smiled, winked, and walked upstairs. Nathan waited a minute, then followed.

* * *

If Haley was just a slight worrier, Lucas was the master. He tumbled into bed that night, after successfully putting Lily to sleep, tired and exhausted. But of course, the more tired you are the harder it is to go to sleep.

First, he thought about his mom and sister. Would they be ok? Lucas had been spending less and less time around the house as his daily deliberations grew, and he knew that Dan was trying to get at Lily. Lucas was afraid that one day, when he wasn't here, Dan would be.

But, there was Andy. Karen had met up with the New Zealander near the end of her trip, a few days before she heard Lucas was due to get married. Before that, she and Lily had been gone overseas for a year. Lucas knew that since Andy was back, he should not have to be as concerned as he was; Andy would take good care of two of the most important people in Lucas's life.

But his family was not the only thing he cared about. The Ravens were nearing play-off time, and they had a small chance to scrape a seat. In about two weeks, they would play first place Oak Lake, and Lucas feared they weren't ready.

There was Peyton, who still hadn't returned to Tree Hill since Lucas last saw her. He wondered what she would do when (if) she returned and talked to Brooke.

And, on top of everything, there was Brooke. He thought about the book he had left on the steps of C/B today, his dedication to her. Wondered if she trusted him. Questioned if he trusted himself around her. Worried that she would leave him. Worried about what could happen.

The only thing that seemed concrete in his life, his thoughts right now, was that Lucas needed Brooke in his life, and that she was slipping away from him.

Finally, when sleep overcame him and began to push him into unconsciousness, Lucas fell back onto his pillows and looked at the clock on his nightstand. The glowing crimson letters stood out cleanly in the darkness. 4:47.

Just like it had yesterday afternoon, Lucas's phone blared from the nightstand, rousing him.

"Screw it," he grumbled, rolling over and putting his hands over his ears. A quick glance at his alarm clock told him that it was 8:30 a.m. Great. He had gotten less than four hours of sleep.

But the phone continued to ring, and Lucas sadly found that he couldn't fall back into unconsciousness, so he rose and answered.

"Nathan, I'm going to block your number from now on," Lucas muttered.

"Then I'll use Haley's," Nathan answered sharply. "Morning, man. Hey listen, we're having a little dinner tonight, and Haley wanted you to come. What do you think?" Nathan's voice had a certain tone that was always present when he was lying through his teeth, but Lucas's grogginess and irritation at being woken up prevented him from hearing it.

"Uh, yeah, sure, man. What time?"

"About 6:30. See you there, Luke." Nathan hung up the phone and gave a thumbs-up to Haley, who was on the house phone.

"Hey, Tigger," Haley was saying. She nodded to Nathan. "What's up?"

"Nothing, Haley," Brooke replied, "I'm just going to open up the store. You?"

"Oh, nothing, just making breakfast. Hey, listen, we're having a little family get-together tonight, and I wanted to thank you properly for staying with Jamie, so do you want to come over?" Luckily, Haley was much more adept at hiding the truth than Nathan was, because Brooke was wide awake and her usual perky self.

"Sure, tutor girl. What time?"

"Around six, so you have time to close up and stuff. Is that good with you?"

"Of course. It combines my two favorite things: Parties, and you three! I'll see you then, Hales."

* * *

And so, the day went on as normal. Brooke tended to the shop and gave Rachel her orientation tour; Lucas went over old things from high school and before; Peyton willed her car to get home faster; and Nathan, Haley, and Jamie all prepared for the party.

It was right before closing at Clothes/Bros that the bell over the door tinkled and Karen Roe walked in. She saw Brooke staring off into space and went over to her.

"Hi, Brooke," Karen said as Brooke rose to hug her.

"Hi, Karen. How are you? How's Lily?" Brooke had not met the little brunette yet, but she had heard Lucas talking about his sister over the past few months.

"Oh, everything's fine. Lily's almost five now, just a few months."

Brooke smiled. "How cute."

That was when Karen bit her lip and turned to Brooke with a smile. She decided to address the reason for Brooke's reverie. "So, Brooke, did Lucas finally tell you?"

Brooke threw her hands into the air, completely exasperated but still good natured. "Does everyone know?" she laughed. Brooke decided to play it off; how could Karen possibly know everything?

"Brooke," Karen said, "I think I knew that Lucas loved you longer than he did. I saw the way that he looked at you while you were dating, even if I didn't understand why you were together. I saw the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of you later. I knew that it was going to happen eventually," she said matter-of-factly.

"No, Karen, it won't happen. I—with Peyton and everything, I want her to be happy, and I know that she's happy with Lucas. And Lucas is happy with her. I'm not going to ruin that."

Karen gave her a contemplative look. "Brooke, are you sure you're not hiding behind the "Peyton's happiness" point because you have no other reason? Because you're afraid of what will happen?"

Silence.

Karen thought for a moment. "But you do love him, right?" Brooke reluctantly nodded. "Good, because I didn't want to have to call you out for lying to me. I'm a mom, Brooke; I know when people are lying," she added when she saw Brooke's surprised face.

"Karen," Brooke said after a moment, "You loved Dan in High School, right?"

Karen nodded, both wary and confused as to where this was going.

"When he left you, at the end of high school, how did you get over it?"

Karen smiled, remembering another lost, confused, broken teenager asking her the same question four years ago. She answered the same way she did back then: "When I do, I'll let you know."

Brooke bit her lip.

"Brooke, let me tell you a story. After you and Lucas split up for the first time, Keith proposed to me. I got scared. I was unsure of what I wanted. I turned him down. I was just like you, Brooke. I knew in my heart what was supposed to happen, but I thought too much with my head. Then he was with someone else for a while, and so was I. But then Keith left after his wedding. When he came back, I realized what I had truly always wanted. We were going to be married, Brooke. But life cut in." Karen's voice broke slightly at this point, but she continued on with renewed vigor. "Had I gone with my heart when he first proposed, we would have been together longer, and perhaps he would even be alive now. But I made the biggest mistake of all and now I regret it daily." She rose slowly from the couch. "You know what's right." She nodded and gave Brooke another hug, and left. Over the years, Karen had learned that the best way to make something sink in was to leave the person alone to mull over what had been said.

It definitely worked: Brooke was left alone with her scattered thoughts. Except now she seemed more… assured?

* * *

"Ok, Jamie, party time," Nathan said as he walked into Jamie's room.

"Can I show them my drawings?" Jamie asked, holding up a pile of painted pictures, ones that he had been working on all day. Nathan had to keep reminding him not to tell Brooke anything about Lucas coming over, or of the plan for later tonight.

"Of course you can, but we want it to be a surprise, ok?" Nathan told him in a conspiratorial whisper. Jamie giggled and nodded.

Just then the doorbell rang. Nathan looked back towards Jamie's doorway, then back at his son. "Party time. You ready?" He held out a fist to pound.

"Oh yeah," Jamie said, just like he did on game nights with Q. He hit Nathan's fist and ran downstairs. Nathan laughed and followed.

Brooke walked in just as Haley was walking down the stairs.

"Aunty Brooke, do you want to see my room?" Jamie asked immediately. Haley laughed and waited for Brooke to respond.

"Uh, not right now, Jame, how about after dinner? I think I'm going to talk to your Mom and Dad right now," Brooke said with a glance at Haley. Haley smiled at her.

Jamie heaved a sigh. "Ok." He went back upstairs, and Haley came over to Brooke.

"Did I really disappoint him that much?" Brooke asked, still looking at the spot Jamie had disappeared.

Haley gave her friend a hug. "Nah, he has everyone wrapped around his little finger. Good for him, bad for everyone else." Brooke laughed.

"He seems really excited about something," Brooke observed as she followed Haley into the family room, where Nathan was watching a basketball game on TV. He greeted Brooke warmly.

"Yeah, Jamie's been like that all day, for some strange reason," Nathan said with a secret glance at Haley as Brooke sat down.

It had only been a half hour, but Jamie had bombarded his godmother with tons of pictures. The two were seated together on the couch, talking and laughing, while Nathan and Haley made dinner in the kitchen behind them.

Brooke put down the latest picture of her and Lucas, and Jamie turned to her.

"Brooke, are you going to marry my Uncle Lucas?"

Brooke laughed at the assumed joke, but Jamie's wide eyes were serious. "Uh—" What was she supposed to say to that?

But Jamie kept talking. "Because I saw you kiss him the other night, before Momma and Daddy came home. You were crying, and he made you feel better."

In the kitchen behind them, Haley suddenly dropped the knife she had been using and looked at Nathan. They hadn't known about this. By unspoken agreement, the two leaned in, busying their hands so that Brooke didn't think that they were listening.

"Um, Jamie—" Brooke was stammering. "When I kissed Lucas…" It was apparent that the words were barely formed in her mind, let alone her mouth. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Brooke leapt up to get it. As she passed Nathan and Haley, they heard her mutter to herself, "Saved by the bell."

As soon as she was out of sight, Haley turned to Nathan and cocked her head with a scandalous expression on her face. _Kissed? _She mouthed. Nathan shrugged, shaking his head with the same shocked expression.

In the entryway, Brooke bounded to the door, already pushing Jamie's revelation to the back of her mind. She even smiled as she opened up the door.

"Uh, hi, Brooke," Lucas said, "What are you doing here?" He seemed slightly confused, as if it was all some sort of joke.

"I'm here for dinner," Brooke replied, echoing his confusion as the smile melted off her face, "Are you?" Brooke specifically forgot to mention the book. In fact, it would be left out of all her conversations for the rest of the night.

"Yeah. Can I come in?" Brooke stood aside from the doorway, letting him in with a small smile. However, her expression on the outside was nowhere near whar she was thinking.

_I_ s_wear to God I am going to __kill__ Haley James Scott._

* * *

Dinner at the Scott's was quieter than normal. Mostly, it consisted of Brooke shooting daggers at Haley, who was looking extremely pleased with herself. Jamie told the table all about Chester, his friend Andre at school, the new dance that Q was teaching him, and all the pictures he had drawn today.

When Jamie didn't disclose the exact contents of the pictures, Lucas asked. "What were you drawing all day, Jimmy-Jam?"

Brooke snorted into her spaghetti with laughter, then looked up to find that the whole table was staring at her. "S-sorry," she apologized. Lucas turned back to Jamie.

"I'd like to see them tonight, Jame," he said in a friendly tone. Brooke smirked internally; she wondered what Lucas would think of them.

* * *

Meanwhile, Peyton had just gotten home. With a relieved sigh, she pulled into the driveway of hers and Brooke's house. Getting out of the car, she gave the hood of her Comet an affectionate rub before hastening inside.

The shower seemed to take forever, the anticipation was so strong. In fact, she had never felt so many emotions at one time: happiness, hope, fear, courage, anxiousness, giddiness, and a strange, bittersweet sadness that she was trying her best to ignore. All of it mixed into a mess that stormed violently inside of her and fueled her preparations.

After what seemed like forever, the shower was done, and Peyton climbed out, hurrying into Brooke's room for something to wear. After her quick thumb through the closet rewarded her with nothing, she made to go into her room, but something on the bedside table caught her eye.

It was a small book, one that had obviously been read several times, even though it looked new. Peyton could tell by the way that the pages were worn on the edges. _Brooke reads? _She thought with a smirk. She picked it up, as well as the packaging below it. There were no markings on the book, just a black cover. It wasn't a bible — _not that I was expecting that: Brooke isn't exactly virtuous, _Peyton thought as she read the packaging below the book. Huh. _To Brooke. _So it was a gift. Somehow, the writing seemed painfully familiar, but Peyton didn't really care. She opened up the book with a bored curiosity. The logic that had been in Peyton all day long was working again. It wasn't Brooke's fault with Lucas. Peyton opened the book to the first page. She could forgive Brooke. She—

_To __my__ Comet._

It was Lucas's book. Peyton's stomach dropped. She had to see him now. Peyton threw the book on the floor as she flew out of the room, hurrying to get clothes. Everything felt as if it was on automatic, like she was watching her own actions from the sidelines.

As she ran downstairs, she heard the phone beep— _Waiting message from 6:15, _the cool female voice said_._

Peyton would have ignored it, but something made her freeze. His voice.

"Hey, Brooke, it's me, Lucas. It's about six fifteen, I'm going to head over to Nathan and Haley's for dinner." Sigh. "Please pick up, Brooke. I just want to hear your voice. Ok then, I guess I'll just…talk to you later." Peyton heard him sigh once more before the message clicked off.

Nathan and Haley's.

Peyton needed to get there now, as if getting to him sooner would make Lucas come back. She wrenched open the door and flew outside.

* * *

After dinner, Nathan had moved the get-together outside, where drinks were served beside the pool. The five were all relaxing when Nathan suddenly sneezed, loudly.

Jamie jumped up and took off up the steps, into the house, yelling for his mom to catch him. "Oh, Jamie," Haley sighed, exasperatedly getting up to follow him.

Nathan stood up as well. "I guess I'd better go help too. Jamie is way too excited for one person, even Haley. I'll be right back."

And then, Brooke and Lucas were alone.

The pool glowed blue against the dark moonless night, the two contrasting like yin and yang. It cast a silky glow over the couple left out on the pool deck, and seemed to blanket the silence in an artificial shine.

"Brooke," Lucas said, and she looked up, ruefully, reluctantly, warily, from the spot of concrete she had been scrutinizing all night. Her eyes held something he couldn't read. It was the first time they had done more than exchange glances the entire time. But he still saw the reluctance when she didn't entirely meet his eyes, focusing instead on his chin.

"Brooke, I remember the first time we met," he continued.

Brooke held up a hand to stop him. "Lucas, don't." Her eyes flashed, but Lucas didn't see anger in them. Instead, he saw fear. She was…afraid of something.

What Lucas didn't know was that she was scared. Terrified, in fact. Terrified that Lucas would make one of his famous speeches.

Terrified that she was going to fall for him again.

Of course, she tried to ignore the fact that she already had.

Lucas continued on. "Brooke, you said something that night that we met that has stuck with me all these years. You said that this was the night it was all going to change. And you know what? It was. It was the night we met. _And that changed __everything__."_

Brooke ran the hand that she had been holding up through her hair, and Lucas watched her shoulders sink. She swallowed, looking regretfully to one side, avoiding his eyes.

"I didn't arrange this, any of it," he said, leaning forward and trying to meet her gaze. "But I'm happy for it. Brooke, talk to me."

"Do you remember New York?" She said suddenly.

"Yeah," he laughed in nervous relief; Lucas thought that she was going tear away from him again. "I remember, we—"

"When you called me, Luke, my mind went in ten different directions. First, I was excited, I was going to see you again. Then I panicked, I couldn't find anything to wear. Then, on the ride there, I felt scared for the first time since high school." Lucas looked up at her at this, and she continued on. "I thought— I was afraid that I was going to fall for you again." Her voice faded to a whisper.

Lucas gave a little smile. "Brooke—"

"I did, Luke. As soon as I saw you in that bar, brooding as usual, I did. I fell for you again," Brooke said despairingly shaking her head with a dry look on her face. She sniffed and closed her eyes, trying to regain composure. "I did. But then I realized that you proposed to Peyton, and I buried it all again."

Lucas didn't even get a chance to reply before Brooke continued on.

"And then you kissed me. For an instant, we were together again, and everything was ok. But you were just heartbroken over Peyton's refusal. I pulled away 

because I wasn't going to get sucked in again, wasn't going to be the used again for the rebound." She finished with shaky finality.

Lucas shook his head, staring at the ground as he tried to find words for the thoughts going through his mind. Finally, he settled on automatic, and the words floated out themselves.

"When Peyton and I were together, it was… novocain. Peyton iced over the pain in my chest in the days after we broke up. Eventually, everyone was pushing me to her, I just gave in, and it became easy to live. No one even blinked when Peyton and I got together, and everyone thought it was meant to be. I guess, I confused that safety with love, and I got scared when that was being taken away from me after high school. I proposed so it wouldn't go away, and she turned me down. That night in New York, I wasn't searching for a rebound, or an easy lay. I was looking for some of that same safety, and I knew it could be found with you. A-a-and a few days ago, you said that I had had my heartbroken when Peyton turned me down. I wasn't heartbroken. It was… It was like crashing after a high, withdraw symptoms. The numbness of life without Peyton, I thought it was heartbreak. But I should've known, the only time I ever was heartbroken was when Brook Davis left me."

In any other situation, the words would have been contrite and over-dramatic. But Lucas said them with such passion and longing that Brooke couldn't help but believe them.

He stood up, searching Brooke's face, her eyes, for any sort of signal, anything that he could read that would tell him what she was thinking after his speech. He found none, just the same melancholy gaze that had pervaded her being for the past few days.

Brooke stayed seated, but looked up into his face, avoiding his eyes even still. "I— I didn't— I never wanted to leave you, but I couldn't have my heart broken again. Everything that was going on with Peyton, I thought it was only a matter of time. And…" Her raspy voice trailed off.

"Brooke?" Lucas prompted.

"I thought that you deserved better than me, Luke. Peyton made you happy. You made Peyton happy. What was I still doing between you two?"

Lucas reached down and clasped his hand around Brooke's wrist, pulling her upwards until she was standing with her eyes at his shoulder-level. "Brooke, when we broke up, I felt that dull, aching pain in my chest. Until then, I had never considered 'heartbreak' to be a physical symptom, but I felt it then, and I felt it all the nights after as I slept, even if I didn't acknowledge it. And I swear to god, I would _never_ put you through that again."

Brooke stayed silent, looking off to the side.

"Just trust me."

Brooke finally looked up at him, and their eyes met truly for the first time tonight.

Lucas continued his speech. "I know I've given you a trillion reasons not to, and that you've put yourself out there twice now. But there's something telling you to trust, Brooke, I know there is, because I have the same thing. That little voice in the back of your head, growing louder all the time. Believe it. Believe me. I'd never do anything to hurt you. I'd do anything for you, Brooke Davis, I love you."

She smiled a little smile. "Lucas, I want you to be the guy for me."

"I will be. I am."

And then they were kissing, and the passion and longing danced in the air. Their bodies fitted perfectly against each other, their hands intertwining below them, their dark forms silhouetted against the sparkling pool background. The moment lasted an instant, and epoch, and the only thing that Brooke and Lucas knew was that they wanted to remain like this forever.

Peyton's car screeched into Nathan and Haley's driveway. It was a miracle that Peyton was even still alive right now, having driven like a bat out of hell across town to get to Nathan and Haley's.

She went up the back walk, hoping to catch someone outside and not make a scene. She rounded the band in the cobblestone path, coming into view of the backyard, and for the second time tonight, her stomach dropped farther than it had in her entire life.

**A/N: Tah-dah! Well, I hoped you liked it. **

**I know it got kinda cheesy towards the end, but hey, BL needs some cheesy love moments, IMHO. D**

**As always, if anyone has any sort of suggestions or ideas, I'd love to hear them. **

**And lastly, leave a review please! **

**Of course, Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

When Nathan, Haley, and Jamie got upstairs, they all slapped each other high-fives.

"And now we wait," Haley said, glancing at the window that overlooked the backyard. "But no peeking, Jamie. Or you, Nathan," she added with a roll of her eyes when she saw her twenty-three year old husband sneaking towards the window.

"Hey, I just want to make sure Brooke hasn't drowned Lucas yet," Nathan retorted, holding up his hands in surrender. "Good job on remembering the sneeze signal, Jamie," he added. Jamie smiled.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," Haley said suddenly. "Uh, Jame, what happened with Uncle Lucas kissing Brooke?"

Jamie shrugged. "I came downstairs one night for a drink, and they were on the couch hugging. Aunty Brooke was crying. Uncle Lucas kept kissing the top of her head and whispering, and then he said something…Pretty Girl, I think. Then she looked up and kissed him. Does that mean that they're going to get married?"

Haley rubbed Jamie's head, making his blonde hair stand up much like Lucas's. "I don't know, Jamie," she said simply.

While Nathan and Haley got into deeper conversation, Jamie tiptoed to the window. Angling his blonde head out, he said, "Look, Momma, it's Peyton! She's coming up the back walkway!" Haley and Nathan turned to look at Jamie.

"Hey, buddy, I told you not to look. And, no it's not, it's just Brooke and Lucas." She walked over to grab him, but took a quick peek out the window. Suddenly, Haley swore.

"Nathan, it is Peyton! Go get her, she can't see Brooke and Lucas right now!"

Nathan swore as well, taking off down the hallway. What Brooke and Lucas needed right now was some time, with no distractions, especially one named Peyton. And both he and Haley wanted to spare Peyton's feelings. Nathan needed to stop her, but he knew that there was no way he could get there in time.

* * *

Brooke and Lucas stood in the backyard, swaying slightly in their embrace. Their eyes were closed, the moment was perfect.

But it all ended when they heard someone murmur, "Oh god, I gotta get out of here." Brooke and Lucas released, turning to see a Peyton who already had tears running down her face and shock in her eyes.

"Oh God, Peyton, no, Peyt!" Brooke called, leaving Lucas's side and trying to catch up to her friend. Lucas simply stood there.

But Peyton just held her shaking hands up. "Brooke, don't. I can't do this right now, especially not with you. Damn, just… just leave it, ok?" She turned to walk away, just in time for Nathan to come skidding around the corner.

"No, Peyton don't go over there!" he was saying, but Peyton just pushed past him without a second glance. Nathan turned back to the couple. Brooke was standing with one hand half-raised, as if she wanted to pull her friend back into the yard where they could talk about everything. Lucas looked simply dumbfounded.

"I guess I was a little late, huh?" Nathan asked, putting his hands guiltily into his pockets. All three smiled sad half-smiles.

* * *

Peyton was peeling down the road, to god knows where for the second time in a week. It all hurt so bad, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, and it was taking all of her strength not to start ripping pieces of her car apart. Already, her knuckles were white on the steering wheel with the pressure from her gripping it so tightly. Even this speed made her feel no different, for everywhere she looked she could see them.

Peyton got to her office in TRIC in record time, throwing her self onto the couch, burying her head in the pillows. She couldn't even close her eyes, because the image of them folded perfectly against each other was burned into the back of her eyelids. She couldn't even cry.

Peyton couldn't do anything but lay there and wait for the pain to ebb…

* * *

Back at Nathan and Haley's the mood was tense. Brooke and Lucas sat together on the couch. Brooke had a silent tear running down her face, and Lucas stroked her hair, comforting her just like he had a week ago. Nathan and Haley sat across from them, occasionally exchanging anxious glances before looking back at the two on the couch. No one said anything.

It was Brooke who finally broke the silence. "I have to go find her," she said. She stood resolutely.

Haley stood as well. "Brooke, you know how much I love you, and Peyton too, and I don't know if that's the best thing for right now. You should just stay with Luke, or us, but don't go looking for Peyton."

"Haley, I have to talk to her. She's my best friend, and I can't put her through something like that." The look on Brooke's face was dangerous. Even Haley didn't argue. "Thanks for dinner, you two," Brooke added, softening her tone to a whisper. "And thanks for… for everything else." She turned on a heel and went into the entryway.

"I'm coming too," Lucas announced, following Brooke.

"No you're not, Lucas, I have to do this on my own. And besides, do you really think that Peyton wants to see us together right now?"

Lucas shook his head as they went out the door. "I don't know what Peyton wants. But sooner or later she is going to have to accept us, and don't you want it to be sooner than later?"

Brooke looked back at him, silent but trying not to concede the point.

"Look, I'll wait in the car if you want, but I'm still coming."

Brooke gave in, and the two got into Lucas's car. Brooke had taken a cab to Nathan and Haley's. As the mustang pulled out, the brunette said, "Let's check the house first, then Tric."

They were the only words exchanged during the car ride. When they got to Brooke and Peyton's house, they cruised by slowly.

"No car," Lucas said, stating the obvious. "Should we check Tric now?"

Brooke nodded.

* * *

When the car pulled into the club's parking lot, Brooke got out and ran up the steps. There was no light on in the club, but Lucas and Brooke had seen Peyton's car here.

"Peyton?" Brooke called into the consuming darkness. "Peyt, where are you?" Her voice got quieter and quieter, but since there was no other sound in the room, it echoed madly. "Peyton…"

Suddenly, Brooke heard a scuffling sound, and turned just in time to see the blonde charging at her. "Peyton!" was the only thing Brooke could gasp as Peyton grabbed Brooke's hair and lad her to one side of the room. "Peyton, what are you doing?" Brooke yelled, but Peyton said nothing. Instead, the two just got closer and closer to one floor-to-ceiling window…

"Peyton!" But it was too late. The blonde threw her old best friend's writhing, screaming body through the plate glass, second story window, and onto the cement forty feet below.

* * *

"Brooke…" Lucas's voice seemed to be calling from far away. "Brooke?" It came again, louder and clearer, like a radio being tuned. "Hey, pretty girl, wake up. We're here."

Brooke peeled her forehead off the cold window. Lucas was leaning over the center console of his car, shaking Brooke's arm gently and watching her with caring eyes. "What—whhaat?"

Lucas chuckled. "You fell asleep, and I guess you had a nightmare. But we're at Tric now."

Brooke laughed nervously, remembering the dream. "Great," she said dryly. Then she bit her lip and turned to Lucas with a more serious air. Her eyes pleaded for something.

"Hey, pretty girl, it'll be ok," Lucas comforted, reading her perfectly for the first time in a long while. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You'll do fine. It'll all work out, ok? Come here," he said, pulling her into a consoling hug, not unlike the one when he confessed his feelings to her. They were silent for a moment. Then they released, and Lucas turned towards Tric.

They could see a light shining down from Peyton's office window, which was at least of some relief to Brooke. Lucas gave Brooke's hand another squeeze, and she smiled appreciatively at him before climbing out of the car.

In the office, Peyton's hurt had subsided to at terrible anger that blocked al rational thought, save for one idea that she had before: _It's Brooke's fault. If she had just stayed away from him, I would be the one kissing Lucas poolside. It should have been me. _She was just trying to decide on something to do when she heard the door open in the main room.

"Peyton?"

It was the last voice Peyton wanted to hear. She raised her head from the pillow, fire in her eyes.

It came again. "Peyton, where are you?" Peyton didn't want to talk to anyone right now, much less her, but she knew that Brooke wouldn't be going away anytime soon. She rose from the couch and wandered blearily to the door.

"What the hell do you want, Brooke?"

"To apologize," Brooke said, cutting right to the point and walking inside past Peyton. "You shouldn't have seen that, especially since you just got back from… wherever you were. I should have talked to you about it first, and I'm sorry." Brooke's sincere tone fell on deaf ears.

"Don't pull that BS with me, Brooke," Peyton said scathingly, and Brooke raised an eyebrow. "You've wanted him since you came home."

Brooke shook her head. "Peyton, I came here to apologize, but if you can't take it, then I'm leaving." Just like she had when she came inside, Brooke strode past Peyton strongly.

She was halfway across the club when Peyton caught up with her. "Bitch, I'm not done with you," Peyton said, grabbing Brooke's arm and turning her around. "You said that you were sorry, but you're still with Lucas. If you really were sorry, you wouldn't be with him."

Brooke snorted with derision. "I said that I was sorry, yeah, but for what you had to see. I'm sorry for not talking to you about it. I'm sorry for the way that you're feeling, and I'm sorry that I caused it. But, I'm definitely not sorry that I'm with Lucas now. Not for a second."

"So, what, you've wanted him since you came home?" asked Peyton contemptuously.

"Maybe I have," Brooke shrugged with a smirk, but then narrowed her eyes and leaned in. "But you never even cared to ask. But when I went to tell you, you didn't care for an answer. You're loss, huh?" Brooke smirked sardonically again.

"Brooke—"

"No, you could've cared less what I was doing in Tree Hill. You were too busy lusting after an engaged guy." Brooke shook her head.

Peyton narrowed her eyes as well. "Nah, Brooke, I was chasing the guy for me. Even if he wasn't chasing back, he still talked to me a helluva lot more, don'tcha think?"

"Peyton, I'm not going to do this," Brooke sighed finally, "I just came to apologize. If you won't take it, then no skin off my nose." She turned and walked away.

Brooke thought she had silenced Peyton, but she stopped when Peyton called after her. "You really think Lucas wants you? Think he loves you? How many times has he told you that before leaving you, or running back to me? Or cheating on you?" Peyton's words stung, but Brooke tried to regain her composure as she kept her back to the blonde. "Because I can't even count them on two hands," Peyton continued, "You'll _never_ be good enough for him. He'll get whatever he wants from you, then come running back to me, like always."

"Peyton, I came here trying to apologize to you, for what you had to see," Brooke started for the third time, but Peyton interrupted.

"So you're sorry you're with him?"

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry for what you are feeling right now, and I am sorry I caused it. But I'm not going to fight you to make you understand."

Tears began running down Peyton's cheeks. "Stupid slut. I was supposed to be the one for him. We were supposed to be together, not him and some random bitch that came in later. We were a perfect match, and I was so in love. I don't see how could possibly look at you next to me."

Peyton's stinging words bought out the worst in Brooke Davis. She smirked viscously. "You mean, you were the comet?" she mocked as she finally turned to face Peyton. "Tell me something, Peyt, when you were at the house, did you happen to see the book on my bedside table?" Peyton's stony face gave Brooke the answer she had been looking for. "Look's like you assume a little much, Peyton. Lucas was right: I was the only one for him. Did he ever tell you how many times he wanted to be with me, not you? You ever wonder why you never had a nickname, why he never showed you his world, or wrote you letters, or anything special like that?" Brooke laughed at Peyton's stunned face as tears began to stream from her green eyes. "I'll always be in his heart, and as long as I'm with Lucas, you get sidelined. Think about it; you know it's true. And yeah, I know that you are going to always try and get him back with your sad, _pathetic_ whining, and maybe you will, for a time. But he and I are meant to be, and we'll always find our way back."

"Bitch," was all Peyton could choke out.

Brooke smiled and shrugged. "Better than being a whore." Ending on that viscius note with a glare, Brooke turned and walked out.

* * *

Lucas saw her broken form wandering down the stairs, and he sat up from his reverie. He had dozed off slightly, so that he was in a dream-like state. But as soon as Brooke came out of that door, even though she was fifty yards away, he could see, or maybe sense, the hurt, and he was instantly awake. When Brooke got to the car, Lucas didn't even need to ask; he could tell from the look on her face. She climbed in slowly, and he turned on the car without a word. He knew she didn't want to talk about it. Luke just put an arm around her, pulled her closer until their bodies rested peacefully against each other as he drove off.

It was silent in the car for several minutes, until Brooke said, "Luke, can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to be alone."

"Of course you can," replied Lucas with a contented sigh.

* * *

That night, Rachel's dreams were so tumultuous that they awoke her almost every other hour, but every time she fell back asleep, she would see the same vision again…

She was in a maze, standing alone in the center of the intricate labyrinth. All around her was a crushing blackness, a tangible, hot darkness that got worse and worse with every wrong turn she took in an 

attempt to escape the maze. She was suffocating, it was getting worse, she couldn't do anything but keep going, making more wrong turns in her dizzying downward spiral.

But then… she saw a light. It floated there just a few feet in front of her. It was so startlingly perfect, that at first Rachel wanted it for selfish reasons. Everyone else would want it, and she would have it. But, slowly she saw, that the more she tried to grab at it, the more the darkness lessened. She followed it, mesmerized, down the winding corridors of her dream, and the less confusing the maze became. Rachel followed the orb until she was out, then turned her back and began to walk away from the light. It followed her, but she pushed it away. Eventually, it left, and the darkness returned, the crushing blackness overwhelmed her. She turned back for the light, but it was getting fainter and fainter, and a sudden longing burst forth from her heart, and a looming sadness that she had pushed away the only thing in her life that had been good to her. Rachel always woke at that part, with the sadness still weighing on her.

* * *

Nathan was tossing and turning in bed when Haley woke up. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was near four a.m. Nathan and Haley had gone to bed not long after Brooke and Lucas had left, too drained to stay up.

Haley turned to her husband, startled to see how distressed he was. Nathan was sweating and mumbling in his sleep, as well as tossing and turning.

"Nate," she whispered, shaking his shoulder slightly, "Nathan, wake up!"

"Huh?" Nathan jerked awake.

"Nathan, you were having a nightmare. What happened?"

Nathan shut his eyes in a grimace of pain. "Nothing."

"Nathan… what happened? You've never been like that. Just tell me."

Nathan rolled over to face Haley more directly. "It was Jamie," he confessed, "He was just standing there, calling out to me, and I couldn't get to him. I couldn't even move. Then he told me his heart hurt and he collapsed. And I still couldn't move. I couldn't help him." Nathan's voice had that hoarse tone. "That's what my dad was. I never want my son to feel like I did growing up. I'm always going to be there for him."

Haley nodded thoughtfully. "I know you will be, and even if you can't, I'll be there for Jamie. You're not Dan. Jamie'll never feel any of that. I promise." She leaned onto Nathan's shoulder, comforting her husband with the closeness between them.

* * *

It wasn't until four in the morning that Lucas woke up. Looking over, he was pleasantly surprised to see Brooke sitting up with her knees drawn up to her chest. The last time he saw her, Brooke had been wearing one of his old jerseys, sleeping peacefully on his shoulder.

When they had first arrived back at Lucas's house, everyone else had been asleep. The two snuck quietly into Lucas's room, and Lucas fell onto the bed. When he had looked up, Brooke had been hovering hesitantly by the door.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?"

Brooke had smiled and fingered her necklace. "Nothing is going to happen, ok Luke?"

"Of course not," Lucas had assured her. He pulled her down on to the bed with a small kiss. "I promise. We'll just sleep."

It was four hours later now, when Lucas woke up and saw Brooke awake. The room was dark, save for the strip of silver moonlight that fell across the bed, but he could still see her features crystal clear.

"What's going on, Brooke?"

"Nothing," she whispered, "Just watching you sleep. It's so peaceful. Slow, relaxing, rhythmic, you know?"

He smiled. "What's wrong, though?" he asked. "I can tell when something is bugging you," he added when he saw her inquiring face.

She gave in. "I said some things to Peyton tonight, and I can't take them back."

"Did you mean them?"

"Yes. I mean, no. Ugh, I don't know. I just let everything loose, everything that I've been burying, and I let them go on Peyton. It was the heat of the moment, and before I knew it, I snapped abnd everything began pouring out of my mouth, and now I can't take it back and I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her or you, but I feel like I have to choose, you know?"

"Brooke, I know you, and I know Peyton. What did she say that made you snap?"

Brooke sidestepped the question with silence. "Luke, why did you fall for me?" she asked after a moment's deliberation.

He thought for a minute. "Plenty of reasons. You bring out the best in me, Brooke, you are a spark of life, so tough on the outside because you don't want to get hurt, everything about you. You were a mystery to me, and I wanted to be a part of your life. But, it was your heart the most," he said, "You tried to show me when we were first together, but I was so…overwhelmed… and I couldn't see it. Later, I saw it when I was watching from afar. That was when I really fell for you, but then you left for California. I finally got a second chance when you came back, and I was so happy. But I made mistakes, and everything with Peyton and I didn't know what to do, and I lost you again. That was the biggest mistake."

"Do you love me, Lucas?" Brooke asked suddenly.

"Without a doubt, Pretty Girl."

"Will you be here in the morning?"

"I wouldn't think of being anywhere else."

"Good." She gave him a light kiss on the forehead and laid back down.

Lucas pulled her close for the umpteenth time tonight, pressing her body against his, and the two drifted into sleep.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Well, tah-dah! Haha, I hoped you liked it. And I know that Brooke's nightmare thing was kinda twisted, but that idea came to me in a dream and I HAD to put it in.

**Also, now that Brooke and Lucas are together, we'll steer away from everyone focusing on them, and into more storylines for everyone. You got a taste of a few in this chapter.**

**Reviews are loved, and, as always, thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

It was a child's loud, giggling voice that woke Brooke up first, although it would have been only a matter of time before the sunlight in the room would have awoken her. She raised her head sleepily from the pillow.

"Whass goin on?" she asked stupidly. Everything seemed covered by a smoky veil; the world had been dulled by her drowsy eyes. Disoriented, she looked around the room. It was familiar, but her spinning head prevented her from placing the person to the bedroom. Brooke knew she hadn't been drinking last night, but after everything that had happened, she might as well have.

Last night! With that thought, the world snapped into clarity and Brooke was suddenly conscious of everything. Memories from the previous night flooded back crystal-clear, she knew whose room this was, and, most of all, she was acutely aware of the scruffy, shirtless blonde male sleeping facedown next to her.

Then came the child's giggling again, accompanied by garbled whisperings of some adult. "Jamie?" Brooke asked, confused for another moment. Next to her, she heard Lucas groan from under his pillow. Looking over, she watched him roll onto his back with more incoherent mumbling. Eventually, though, he turned to face her.

"Morning, pretty girl," Lucas whispered as a smiled played on his usually hard mouth. His blue eyes were soft as he looked at her.

"Morning, Luke."

Lucas looked Broke up and down. "Brooke, you know I love you, but do you ever sleep?" he asked as he became more awake.

"I'm a night person," she replied simply.

Lucas laughed and laid back down again. "I don't know if I'm a night or day person; I'm just know not a morning kinda guy."

"Yeah, I know," Brooke laughed. She had learned early in their relationship that you _never_ wake Lucas Scott before nine. Therefore, she had made a point back in high school to wake him up at six am or earlier as often as she could, regardless if they were dating or not. She would also try and keep him up as late as possible.

It seemed strange to Brooke that they were talking so easily, so playfully, after everything that had happened last night. For one, it was only last night that they got together. For two, Peyton had seen everything, and gotten into a fight with Brooke about it. Yet here they were, talking as if last night had happened a year ago. To Brooke, it seemed almost wrong that they weren't talking about everything, like they were cheating; but she loved waking up next to Lucas on these sort of mornings and being like this.

The playful giggles of the girl outside interrupted Brooke's thoughts. "That's Lily," Lucas finally informed her from beneath his pillow. Brooke laughed and looked back to the door. She propped herself up on her elbows.

"Lily," someone said. This time Brooke could hear them. "Lil, you have to be quiet, you don't want to wake them…"

But the door burst open anyway.

"Lucas," came Lily's singsong voice as she ran to Lucas's bedside. "Lucas, wake up!"

Karen appeared in the doorway. "Brooke, Lucas, I'm sorry. Lily, c'mon, let them sleep—"

"No, Karen, it's fine," Brooke said, smiling and assuring Karen with a wave of her hand.

"No it's not," Lucas grunted, but only Brooke heard it.

"We were about to get up anyways," Brooke finished to Karen, and with an unholy grin to Lucas, said, "C'mon, Luke, time to get up!" She gave his pile of pillows a cheery slap, and she could only imagine his grimace.

"All the same," Karen said, taking Lily's hand, "We'll give you a second to get up." She led Lily out the door. Brooke waved to the little brunette as she left.

Five minutes later, Brooke was throwing on her clothes from last night. "Lucas!" She said as she pulled on her shirt. "Luke, get up." Then a thought entered her head, and she ran into the bathroom. "Luke, I'm in your bathroom; can you come help me fix my bra? It's not clasping." Brooke smiled and peeked outside. She watched Lucas's head perk up from the bed.

"Uh, yeah, sure, Brooke," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. Brooke bit her lip as she watched him swagger towards the bathroom. Right when Lucas put his hand on the door, Brooke burst out.

"Nevermind, I got it! But now that you're up, you can get dressed!" She smiled at him, biting her tongue and kinking her eyebrow in a flirty kind of challenge, as if daring him to refute. Lucas just laughed and shook his head, but Brooke could see the shadow of barely concealed disappointment. "Down boy. C'mon, we gotta shoot for a _gradual_ ramp up to full relationship status; a status, I might add, that comes with full bra-fixing privileges and more. Oh, don't look so disappointed," she added when she saw his face fall again.

"Brooke Davis, you are something else."

"Yep," she said, not missing a beat and throwing his shirt at him. "I'll give you five minutes before I drag your naked ass out there in front of your mom, sister, and Andy. Oh, and I'll make coffee!" she promised. Then Brooke went out the bedroom door, leaving Lucas holding his shirt and shaking his head, mildly incredulous, still staring at the spot Brooke last stood.

"Morning, Brooke," came Karen's voice for the second time today.

Brooke walked into the kitchen, where Karen and Andy were having coffee at the kitchen table. It seemed she got off the hook for her promise to Luke. "Hi, Karen, Andy. Good morning."

"Would you like some coffee?" Andy asked her, holding up a mug. Brooke hadn't really known the New Zealander when he first came to town, only seeing him when he came over to Karen's when Brooke was staying with her. She had known they were dating then, but Brooke had no idea what was going on between them now. Neither did they, it seemed.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm ok." Brooke looked at Karen. "Thanks for letting me stay here for a while, you two. Stuff with Peyton has gotten kinda messed up, and I wouldn't be able to stay at my house right now with her." Brooke seemed slightly uncomfortable, but it was probably the fact that she had spent the night with Lucas, and Karen and Andy had no idea what went on behind closed doors. She wanted to assure the couple that nothing had happened, but she didn't know what to say.

"No problem Brooke, stay as long as you need," Karen said warmly, assuaging Brooke's fears, and her eyes fixed on a point somewhere behind Brooke. "Oh, and here's Lily."

Brooke turned and saw the little brunette skipping down the hall, all smiles. She looked a confident and outgoing girl, but her face changed when she saw Brooke. Brooke almost smiled when she saw the flash of shyness, and the skips abruptly changed to careful steps.

"Lily, this is Brooke. She's a friend of your brother's," Karen announced.

Brooke bent down t eye level with the little girl. "Hi," Brooke said. "You're name is Lily? That's a pretty name. I'm Brooke." She held out her hand, and Lily shook it.

"Hi."

Andy looked around for something to say. "Lily, what are you doing in there?" He nodded to the living room.

"I'm watching my show, Zoey 101!"

Brooke smiled. "Hey, I love that show!" In truth, she had absolutely no idea what it was.

Lily brightened. "Wanna watch it with me?" she asked, grabbing Brooke's hand.

"Sure, Lily." As Brooke was led to the other room, she looked back at Karen and Andy. _Zoey what?_ She mouthed.

Karen shrugged and laughed. "That's Lily."

Lucas emerged from his room five minutes later, fully dressed, partially awake even still. "Morning, everyone," he said, going to sit with Andy and Karen.

"Hi, Lucas. Coffee?" Andy offered again, and this time Luke took it.

"Thanks, Andy. Where are the girls?"

Karen motioned to the family room. "They're watching TV out there. Why don't you go say an official good morning to Lily?"

Andy stood up. "And while you're at it, tell her that breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." He went to the freezer and pulled out some waffles as Lucas walked into the living room.

"Hey, ladies," he said, "Good morning."

Lily and Brooke were sitting together on the couch, already laughing and talking together. When Lily saw her older brother, she jumped up. "Good morning, Lucas!" she laughed, running to hug him. Lucas picked her up.

"Hey, Lil. What are you girls up to in here?"

"We're watching TV," Lily said as Lucas put her on his hip.

"You are?" he said, looking at Brooke. She was watching the whole brother-sister scene silently with a smile on her face.

Lucas set Lily down, and she went running back to Brooke. Lucas followed and sat on the other side of his sister. Brooke finally turned to him.

"Well, good morning, boyfriend, thank god you got up. I thought I was going to have to pull your naked—" she stopped and looked down at Lily between them "_a-s-s_ outta bed, but your fine now."

Lucas just smiled. He thought about how natural everything was now, how nothing was forced or uncertain. Last night seemed a million years away, and now it was just him and her. In just one night, they had fallen into perfect swing; a genuine, relaxed relationship.

Lily started teasing Lucas. "So she is your girlfriend!" Until now, Lucas had kept his eyes on Brooke the whole time. Now he looked at his younger sister.

"Yep, Brooke's my girlfriend." Brooke bit her tongue and smiled, staring straight ahead, listening rather than watching the exchange.

"Brooke and Lucas, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!" Lily chanted, getting up and running around the room, her show forgotten.

Lucas turned his eyes back to Brooke. She was had leveled her eyes straight forward, ignoring Lily's shouts, but Lucas kept his unflinching gaze on his girlfriend the entire time Lily taunted him. He caught Brooke's smile, and she looked both embarrassed and delighted. Lucas knew she was imagining the scenario.

Just then, Andy called from the kitchen. "Lily, we've got waffles!" And without a second glance, Lily stopped her taunting and tore into the kitchen, obviously energized by all the fun.

Brooke turned to Lucas. "Well, she's a spark of life."

Lucas snorted. "Try a bomb," Brooke laughed, but Lucas pressed on, laughing as well. "Look, even now, we're left with that post-explosion silence, where everything seems louder."

"Well, she's a cute one."

"Yeah…"

Suddenly, in the silence, it seemed that the previous night's events finally caught up to the couple, and the calmness thickened and pressed heavier on them. Lucas, looking at Brooke, could tell that she was still thinking about what had happened with Peyton.

She saw him looking at her, and smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Brooke clapped a hand down on his thigh, where his hand was. They intertwined fingers. "Well, as much fun as making out in a tree sounds, I think I'm going to take a little walk. Clear my head, you know?"

Lucas nodded. "Ok, but come back soon?"

She smiled. "You bet."

* * *

With shaking limbs, Peyton rose from her bed. Rather than spending another several sleepless hours on that couch in Tric, she had actually come home last night, after her fight with Brooke, and fallen asleep at three.

Was she tired? No.

Did she relive last night? Not really. Only the important parts.

Was she emotionally spent? _Hell yes._

She wasn't sick about the mere act of Lucas kissing Brooke. It was more the confirmation of the kiss, confirmation that told her that Lucas wasn't lying when he broke up with her in Tric that day. That she couldn't get him back.

And then her fight with Brooke. Brooke, who had been there for more than ten years, and yet she had said so many horrible things to Peyton last night. But that wasn't even the worst part. After the fight, Peyton had walked to the window to watch Brooke leave.

Brooke had left with him. Peyton had watched Brooke curl up close to Lucas, playing the victim in the whole situation, like she always did. In fact, Brooke had probably alienated Lucas from Peyton right then and there. Poor Luke.

But the day had to go on. Peyton had bands to check out, Mias to call, mail to pick up, songs to record, stuff to do. After throwing some clothes on (just a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt) she went out the door and climbed regretfully into the car.

Peyton couldn't help but smile as she drove, remembering one of the first times she had met her real mother, Ellie.

"_Well, your eyes are puffy, which, from experience, screams textbook crying eyes. You have your hair up, so you're probably not planning on impressing any boys today. I'd say you're nursing a helluva broken heart, and not the schoolgirl crush kind, the real thing."_

Peyton smiled again, thinking of how right Ellie had been when she had said that. It was just a couple days after Jake had left. Peyton was dressed today the same way she had been back then, and she was nursing a broken heart today, too.

The post office appeared on her left; Peyton just had to stop here before going onto Tric. She was expecting some stuff for the club, such as offers to play. Inside, she nodded to the clerk, who was busy opening a new bag of mail for the boxes that lined the walls.

"Bill, ad, ad, ad, bill, offer to play, oh, _request_ to play, wow," Peyton mumbled to herself as she flipped through the envelopes. She was almost out the door when the clerk called to her.

"Wait, are you box 723?" he asked. Peyton nodded.

"Well, there's one more priority letter that just came in today for you, so here you go." The man held out a normal looking envelope, different only from the others because of the large red PRIORITY stamp on one side. Peyton took it gingery; she hadn't been expecting anything like this.

As soon as she got in her car, the letter was ripped open. Peyton had always possessed a potent curiosity for things like this. But the second she read the first line, the letter slipped from her hands. It fell, forgotten from the shock of its contents, to the floor.

* * *

When Nathan turned into the kitchen that morning, the first thing he saw was Haley, his beautiful wife, leaning on the counter with a cup of coffee in her hands. The morning sun shined through the wispy, out-of-place hairs that had escaped the ponytail she had done this morning, and for a second, they were back in high school, on one of the mornings when they would wake up together and stay home from classes all day.

Then Nate looked to Jamie, who Haley was talking to over his cereal, and Nathan beamed with pride. He made that. Jamie was going to be so great some day, already he was full of life and vitality.

Nathan couldn't be prouder of his family.

"Morning, Nate, glad to see you finally up," Haley teased. Late-rising just ran in the Scott family. Nathan, now that he had been discovered, wandered from the doorway and took the cup of coffee Haley was holding out. "Looks like you'll need this," she added, denoting his tired eyes and body. He had barely fallen asleep all night.

"Weird night, huh?" Nathan asked the two as he leaned his elbows onto the counter, mimicking Haley's position.

"Yeah," said Haley, "how do you think they're doing?"

Nathan laughed. "Well, unless Peyton committed a double homicide last night, I'd say they're doing fine. Lucas is probably still asleep."

"But, you forget that Brooke is staying with him," Haley reminded him, taking Jamie's empty cereal bowl. "She probably woke him up the second she opened her eyes. But let's not talk about it anymore; what happened, happened, and it's them now. We sit back and watch now."

Nathan agreed as Jamie hopped off the barstool. "Hey, Daddy, wanna go shoot hoops with me?" Jamie asked, gesturing towards the small rim outside.

"Sure, Jame. How about you go get dressed for school, then we'll shoot around for a few minutes before you go to school, ok?" Jamie nodded enthusiastically and went upstairs.

"It'll be fun for us to shoot around again, huh?" Nathan observed, turning back to Haley. She was watching Jamie's disappearing form up the stairs.

Haley's face had changed. It wasn't a complete collapse, like a building falling. It was more like watching water stream through a hole in a dam, and the crack in the wall getting wider and wider until everything snapped and madness burst forth. Her face seemed to progress slowly from happiness and laughter to a nervous, fearful expression.

"Hales, what's wrong?" Just as quickly as the change had happened, it disappeared and Haley jolted, laughing. But Nathan couldn't shake the uneasy feeling and the memory of her in that moment.

"Nothing… just panicky mom stuff. Yeah, it'll be fun for the both of you to start playing again." Nathan crossed to the other side of the bar and sat down in front of Haley, just where Jamie had been sitting a moment ago.

"Usually, Haley, your panicky mom stuff translates into my panicky dad stuff. What's up?"

Haley put down the towel she had been nervously cleaning the counters with. She bit her lip and examined a piece of granite for a moment, as if trying to word how she was going to say something, considering what she would tell him. Finally, she looked up at him. "Your— dream… your dream form last night reminded me of something. We— we never got Jamie checked for HCM."

* * *

"_You mean, you were the comet? Tell me something, Peyt, when you were at the house, did you happen to see the book on my bedside table? Look's like you assume a little much. Lucas was right: I was the only one for him. Did he ever tell you how many times he wanted to be with me, not you? You ever wonder why you never had a nickname, why he never showed you his world, or wrote you letters, or anything special like that ? I'll always be in his heart, and as long as I'm with Lucas, you get sidelined. Think about it; you know it's true. And yeah, I know that you are going to always try and get him back with your sad, pathetic whining, and maybe you will, for a time. But he and I are meant to be, and we'll always find our way back."_

Brooke smiled through her remorse, somewhat proud of her instantaneous rebuttal last night, even though she would take it back if she could. She had snapped, hurling the first hurtful words that came into her head at Peyton. Brooke walked down third street, allowing her feet a mind of their own, letting them take her wherever as she remembered last night.

She wasn't far from Lucas's house. When Brooke had first stepped outside, she had been almost unwilling to walk, for some reason. Whether it be that there were so many thoughts and regrets weighing on her, or she just didn't know what to do, it didn't matter. But Brooke was walking now, and she probably wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Brooke was so wrapped up in her deliberations, she didn't notice the dark SUV slow down and drive next to her. That is, until the driver rolled down the window and called to her.

"Ms. Davis!" he yelled, leaning one arms and his shoulders out of the window. Brooke was momentarily startled into looking at him.

"Dan," she said, looking back forward and continuing to walk. There really was nothing else to say to the man who had killed Uncle Keith, the man who was hanging out of his car to talk to her right now.

"So, I hear you're with Lucas now," Dan said, and Brooke tried to detect anything more than casualness in his statement, but she couldn't.

"Yep. I stayed with him last night."

"Really?" Dan said, nodding as if considering this new piece of information. "So you've met Lily, have you?"

This time, Brooke looked at him, having a general idea of what he was getting at. She decided not to say anything about Lily. "You're driving on the wrong side of the road, you know?" Dan looked forward.

"There's no cars coming. Nothing to worry about, so I can. Now, about Lily—"

Brooke abruptly stopped and turned. "Look, Mr. Scott, I'm not going to tell you anything about Lily, or Lucas, or Jamie, or whoever the hell you're trying to learn about this week, ok?" She seemed unsure of herself, questioning whether or not she should be challenging someone like him. "You're wasting your time."

Dan shrugged. "Just trying to get to know my future daughter-in-law. Unless, of course, Lucas changes his mind again. Gets that from me, you see. You'll be seeing more of me, Ms. Davis." With a nod, Dan stepped on the gas, revving the SUV around the corner. Brooke stopped in her tracks and watched him disappear. Trepidation was plastered on her face, but she didn't know why.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hey everyone, sorry about the long wait (Well, relatively long wait, compared to the rest of the chapter Ud's). But no excuses, here is the next part! Reviews are loved: Criticism (constructive or otherwise), or just normal comments! Thank you!**

"Alright, so the doctor said that we can get him tested in a couple of days, and that it'll be free since we have genetic history." Haley clicked off the phone, setting it on the counter between her and her husband, and waited blankly for Nathan's response.

It had been a week. Seven days. 168 hours. A week since Haley and Nathan had realized the danger Jamie was in because of his possible heart condition. A week since Brooke and Lucas had gotten back together, a week since Brooke had had the explosive argument with Peyton, a week since Peyton had retreated into her work and refused to let herself be drawn out. Apparently, Brooke had even spent a half a day in front of Peyton's locked office door, alternating apologizing and demanding that Peyton get her scrawny ass out there so they could talk about it. Not surprisingly, Brooke had received no response from the blonde.

Haley had just gotten off the phone with the head of the specialist pediatrics ward at Tree Hill hospital. Nathan looked at her worn and weary face. "Hales, I know I wasn't great at biology in High School, but I thought that since neither of us have HCM, that means that Jamie can't get it."

Haley ran a hand through her hair. "Well, there are two things. One, Jamie shares at least some DNA with Lucas. As HCM is genetic, there's a possibility that Jamie could share the gene for the defect. And, just because you don't have it doesn't mean you are completely free. You could be just a carrier for the gene, not showing symptoms but still passing it on. The chances are slim, but we know that things in Tree Hill surprise us sometimes. Most of the time. We just don't know at this point, Nathan."

"Haley, I'm sure everything will be ok. There's no need to worry." Nathan made to put an arm around his wife, but Haley drew back with an indignant look.

"Uh, there's a damn good need to worry. Nathan, you don't know what it was like watching your best friend run around, never knowing when he could pass out or have a heart attack at 17. Can you imagine what that would be like if our_ son_ had the same defect?"

"I know, I know," Nathan said, distressed. He kept his voice low. "But I promise you, nothing will happen to Jamie." It was strange that Nathan was the one who originally had the dream, yet he was the one comforting his wife now. This time, when he reached out to pull Haley in, she fell into his arms, but she still had that worried look.

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can. I'm Nathan Scott." That elicited a slight laugh from Haley, and she grimaced with a smile. "But hey," Nathan continued pulling their bodies away so he could look at her, "It's your birthday, and we shouldn't be like this. We should be celebrating! So come on, I'll go wake up Jamie."

Haley cocked her head to one side, listening intently. "I don't think so…" she said just as Jamie came down the stairs.

"Happy birthday, Mama," Jamie said. He held out a card. "I made you this!" Haley took the hand-made birthday card and lifted Jamie up, giving her son a hug. "You're gonna have a great day," Jamie promised with a sincere look.

Haley set him down, saying, "Well, it's already great, but I don't want any surprises from you two, ok?"

For once, Nathan conceded. "Fine, Haley, you won't get any surprises out of us. Right, Jame?" Jamie nodded. Haley was about to comment on the strange surrender of her two boys when the doorbell rang.

"Uncle Lucas!" Jamie exclaimed as he turned and ran to the front door. Haley and Nathan followed.

"I-I wonder how he knew it was Luke and Brooke?" Haley mused. Nathan fingered his ring nervously, but Haley didn't notice.

"I don't know, Hales. Maybe he just saw the car?" Nathan guessed. Haley shrugged as Brooke and Lucas came in the door.

"Happy Birthday, tutor wife!" Brooke exclaimed as she came in. She nearly ran to Haley, almost bowling over Nathan as Brooke gave her friend a hug.

"Hey, Tigger," Haley laughed, "Thank you." Haley was really at a loss for words; she hadn't been expecting this. She turned to Nathan. "Nate, come on, I told you no surprises," she said as she accepted Lucas's hug. Nathan shrugged.

"I didn't arrange this," Nate said, with a pointed glance at Lucas when Haley wasn't looking. Lucas was confused for a moment, but luckily Brooke picked up on it.

"What, Hales, we're not allowed to come wish our friend a happy birthday without Nathan getting in trouble? We came over all on our own!" Brooke explained with mock pride, placing her hands on her hips and smiling haughtily. Everyone in the entryway laughed.

"Well, thanks for coming," announced Nathan, beckoning them into the house. "Haley here didn't want any surprises from me or Jamie, so my hands were kinda tied."

"Oooh, that sounds fun," Brooke said absent-mindedly as they made their way into the kitchen.

* * *

"Mouth! Get up and get yo' damn booty call outta the parking lot before we get evicted!" Fergie's irritated, sleepy voice woke Mouth up from the other room. "I'm pretty sure Skills wants a place to live when he gets off his boat ride!"

"Millicent?" It was his first thought, as well as the first confused word from his mouth when Mouth raised his head. He hadn't been expecting her this early… he glanced at the clock. 8:47. Milli had promised breakfast, but said there were a few things she had to get done first.

"Mouth!" It wasn't Fergie yelling this time. The call was muffled from outside, and Mouth jumped out of bed, hurrying to the window. Opening it, he was surprised to find who was yelling to him from the parking lot beneath his apartment.

"Rachel, what are you doing here?" He asked. If he had been confused a second ago, it as nothing compared to what he was now. Below him, Rachel was swaying on the spot, waving gleefully up to him, as if overjoyed she had found the right apartment. Even from three stories up, Mouth could see her glazed eyes, though he thought nothing of them.

"Oh, you know," Rachel laughed, looking around the parking lot. Then she paused. "Actually, I don't even know… Oh yeah! Can I come in?"

Mouth looked back over his shoulder before turning back to Rachel. "You do know that there's a doorbell, right? That you can just walk right in? That you don't need to wake my neighbors and my landlord on a Saturday morning?" Rachel giggled. "Ok, come on up," he sighed.

A few minutes later, after Rachel had successfully made it inside (really, she was successful: it had taken a few tries to get in), she was leaning against Mouth's bedroom wall while he brought her coffee. He got back in, handed her a cup, then sat down on the bed and expectantly waited for an explanation for her outlandish morning call. Rachel sat down as well, anxious.

She got straight to the point. "Ok, Mouth, you know that storm in senior year, the one where the power went out and we spent the night? And you said you didn't want to kiss me until I wanted to kiss you back?" She said this all very fast, as if worried that it wouldn't come out the way she planned.

Mouth nodded. "Yeah, I'll never forget. Why?"

Deciding that sitting was doing nothing for her nerves, Rachel got up and paced the room, intertwining her fingers. "I had a dream the other night," she announced, and quickly recounted the dream of the light and the crushing darkness. "I don't think it was a random dream, either. I guess my subconscious must be telling me something, because I've had the same sort of thing every night since." Her nervous laugh that finished her speech sorely lacked humor. "I think the light was you. Or symbolized you, in some way."

"Rachel, what—"

"And I woke up wanting to kiss you. So that day, that day, that day we talked about, is today."

Mouth chewed his tongue nervously, thoughtfully, at a loss for words. Finally he decided on, "Rachel, you may have woken up wanting to kiss me, but I don't wake up wanting the same thing anymore. I'm with Millicent now, and I'm not giving that up." For the first time, he noticed the glazed expression, the wobbly, unsteady way in which she paced. "Rachel, are you drunk?"

His question stopped Rachel in her tracks and she turned to face him like a guilty high school student, but her face changed quickly to one of indifference. "Yeah, so? Isssjustalittle…"

"Rachel! It's 9 a.m!"

Rachel rolled her eyes; he was obviously missing the point. "Mouth, I've been up all night."

"Well, I'm going to take you home," Mouth announced, his caring side taking over, "Take the alcohol—" But he was interrupted by Rachel sitting back down and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Mouth, I've been up all night, can't I just sleep here?" She pushed him down onto the bed, silencing his protests with a hard kiss and laying on top of him. He tried to push her off, but there was a sound at the door.

"Marvin…" It was a small, mousy voice, already filling with dejection. Millicent dropped the breakfast that she had brought for Mouth, and the coffee went forgotten as it splashed across the carpet. In that instant, she had already taken in Rachel, and the fact that she was in bed with Millicent's shirtless boyfriend. All three were frozen in shock.

Just then, Junk appeared around the corner, ignorant of what was going on. "Hey, Mouth, uh, your girlfriend's here," he was saying, "So I'd venture to say that the booty call has got to go." He froze as well when he saw the scene unfold before him. "Aw, damn."

Millicent turned and stormed out. "No, Millicent, this isn't what it looks like, I was going to take her home!" Mouth jumped out of bed, ignoring a shocked Rachel. He ran out the door, still yelling her name. "Millicent!" he called, but the only answer was a slamming door. After Rachel had exchanged a worried glance with Junk, Mouth returned to the bedroom.

"The people in Tree Hill have the worst timing," Rachel dryly observed, raising one eyebrow.

"Get out. Call a cab, whatever, just leave." Mouth's voice was unfamiliar; low and threatening. Rachel didn't protest.

* * *

Back at the "Official Naley party palace", as Brooke had deemed the house for the day, Brooke and Nathan stood together in the kitchen, waiting for Haley to come downstairs and watching Jamie and Lucas play basketball outside. They had already decided to let Brooke get Haley out of the house so they could set up for her surprise party, partly because Nathan sucked at lying and partly because Brooke really wanted to.

"So, thanks for all this, Brooke," Nathan said presently. "Not only do you throw great parties, this is what everyone needs right now. Time off, basically." Brooke agreed: everyone seemed to be stressed lately. There was the thing with Peyton, the High school was nearing playoff time, Mouth was working his way up in his job, Brooke, Rachel and Millicent needed to come up with a few new designs, Haley was frantic in her preparations for the high school end-of-the-year tests. In fact, the only people who seemed to be not in total panic mode were Jamie and Chester.

"No problem. We all gotta stick together in our tough twenty-two year old lives. Just no bar fights at this one, promise?" Brooke laughed.

She turned her eyes to Lucas and Jamie. "He's really great with Jamie," Nathan said, as if reading her mind.

Brooke nodded. "Yeah, he's the caring sorta father figure. I guess he just knows what NOT to do. But really, he's just good that way." Nathan looked at her.

"So are you, Brooke, even if you don't know it full well yet. I know we made the right decision with you two as his godparents."

"Thanks, Nate. You know, back in high school, I would have never pegged you as the father type, but you and Haley are the best parents I know. How do you do it?"

Nathan shrugged. "Being a Dad scared the hell out of me at first. Every so often, the thought would run through my head. 'What if I don't hold them right?' 'What if he doesn't like me?' 'What if my daughter is like Brooke Davis?'" He made a face at her.

"Then we would have a serious problem," Brooke said, "Oh, and, by the way, shut up!" She pushed him playfully, and he laughed.

"I guess I just got used to it, eventually," Nathan finally continued, more seriously, "And now I would never give it back. Not even for the start shooting guard position on the best team in the NBA."

Brooke bit her lip. "Um, even after years of cheerleading at basketball games, I never really picked up much on the actual _game,_ surprising, I know, so I'll just take your word for it." She smiled apologetically at him.

Nathan was about to retort when he heard steps down the stairs. After a quick glance in the direction of the sound, he looked back to Brooke. "Looks like you're up."

"Haley," Brooke greeted as Haley came around the corner. "Ok, I really hate to do this to you, but I need a favor: I'm not allowed to drive right now, and I need a few things picked up from Clothes over Bros. Since Milli isn't picking up her phone, Rachel's most likely passed out somewhere, Peyton is out of the question and Lucas is kinda busy—" Brooke gestured behind her t the two boys and put on another apologetic face "—Can you do it?"

Haley too a sip of water, nodding. "Sure, Brooke. I mean, it's the least I could do after you helped with Jamie. Whatcha need?" As the two girls walked together to the door, Brooke shot a thumbs up at Nathan from behind her back. He just laughed and stole Haley's water.

"So, Brooke, why can't you drive again?" Haley mused. Brooke froze. She hadn't come up with a story.

"U-uh, it's like… I'm taking this medicine, right?" Brooke opened the door and showed Haley through. "And it… it could trigger my… monotrihabilisglyceride," she quickly coughed out, "And it could make me fall asleep!"

As Haley turned on the porch to say goodbye, the look on her face was one of utter confusion. "Brooke, trimono— whatever you said isn't even a real disease."

"Yes it is. Bye!" And with that, Brooke slammed the door of The Official Naley Party Palace in Haley's face. After a sigh of relief, she walked into the kitchen, a spring in her step. She looked at Nathan, who was finishing Haley's water with a glint in his eye.

"And THAT," Brooke said officially, "Is how you think on your feet!"

Water shot out of Nathan's nose. He sank to the counter, laughing. "Monotrihabilisglyceride?"

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

The letter. That damn letter. Peyton had managed to push it out of her mind over the past week, but when she saw it laying in the passenger footwell of her car, Peyton's heart jumped into her throat, just like it had the last week when she read the first paragraph.

_The page had an official looking stamp, a seal of some sort, as well as a professional typeset. Peyton took all of this in subconsciously, eagerly looking to the first line._

"_Ms. Peyton Sawyer," it had said, "The North Carolina State Penitentiary has sent this notice to alert about one of the inmates, a Mr. Ian Banks. Mr. Banks was recently injured in a work-related accident, and because of the severity of his injuries, we have decided to move him to New Brunswick General Hospital. As his death is entirely possible, he has requested a meeting with you. This is not a formal summons, nor is your presence mandatory at Mr. Banks' arrival in New Brunswick County; this is simply an informative letter of his last request of your presence at New Brunswick County Airport for his arrival before he is admitted to the New Brunswick General Hospital."_

The letter went on in more official mumbo jumbo to reiterate that Peyton didn't need to be there, but as it was basically Ian's last request, they recommended it. It also listed a time for his arrival at the airport, more subtle suggestion that she should be there.

There had been a lot of times lately when Peyton would sit back and think about how screwed up her life was. Exhibit A: She had almost gotten into a brawl last week with her best friend of over a decade, over a boy they had known for about five years. Exhibit B: Peyton had instantly made enemies with her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend of three years. Exhibit C: She was hopelessly in love with someone who didn't love her back (see ex-boyfriend). Exhibit D: She was going to a party tonight with all of these people. _At least there'll be no drama_, thought Peyton sarcastically to herself.

And, of course, as if that wasn't enough (Nothing in her life ever is), Peyton was actually torn about the decision to see her former nightmare-invoking, hair-smelling, picture-taking, half-brother impersonating freak of a stalker.

Peyton and Brooke had promised each other and Ian that they wouldn't see him again. Ever. It had been easy these past years; He was packed away in a maximum security prison, as well as shut away in their minds. But seeing this letter, it brought back memories, horrible flashes of not being able to sleep at night. She hadn't even been able to go into the basement since then.

However, the knowledge of him dying… it was something else entirely. She felt intimately linked to Ian, whether she wanted to or not, and being able to see him on his deathbed, to _know_ he was going to die and she would never have to worry about him again— the thought was empowering, calming her nerves. Peyton steeled herself internally, raising her chin and putting the letter back in its envelope, showing the old independent, strong Peyton. That was who she would be from now on.

Of course, Peyton tried to ignore the irony that a letter about a past ghost that had caused her to be weak and fearful back then was strengthening her now.

Just exhibit E of her messed up life.

**

* * *

**

A/N: I also just wanted to apologize for the same old triangle thing, this time with Mouth, Millicent and Rachel. I know having it over and over again gets redundant, but this will open up some new ideas that I have, and I promise we wont get bogged down with too much drama in that department.

**Reviews are loved, and, as always, thanks for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

Brooke shook her head. Leaning over the counter to impress her point, she said, "No, it's only about a fifteen mile drive to downtown. Therefore, if Haley drives her usual, about 30 mph, Mom speed, I know, she should be there in about 30 minutes. It'll take her around five minutes to grab the stuff I needed, and then like another fifteen minutes to get it to the store. So, at 2:45, I need to call her with another favor." Brooke said this all very matter-of-factly as she looked at the three boys in front of her. Nathan, Lucas, and Jamie all stood slightly slack-jawed in the Naley kitchen, home base for the party team (another code name from Brooke).

"Whoa," Jamie breathed, "Aunty Brooke, could you help me with my homework?" Jamie was wide-eyed, but Nathan just looked mildly confused.

"So, you could come up with all that in a matter of seconds, but you had to steal a calculus test in senior year? Not that that is a good idea, or anything," Nathan added, remembering Jamie was in the room.

Lucas, on the other hand, was laughing. "Forget the test: you could do all that but still not think up anything better than Monotrihabilisglyceride?" he laughed in disbelief. Nathan had recounted the entire story to his brother, and Lucas had taken every opportunity to tease his girlfriend about it. Brooke gave a sarcastic laugh.

"I'll deal with you later," she promised icily and Lucas immediately shut up. Brooke smiled, satisfied, and turned back to Jamie and Nathan. "How long will you guys take with the supplies?"

"If we push it, a half an hour."

"Good. Get going, Luke and I will stay and set up here. Be fast," she warned, and Jamie led his father out the door. Brooke looked back at Lucas. "Come on, Broody, you're helping me with the manual labor." Lucas grimaced and groaned as she grabbed his collar and led him out the back door, where she had the pieces of a disassembled portable bar.

Twenty minutes later, Brooke was in her element. She stood above a laboring Lucas, holding the directions and giving him commands. Lucas was shining with sweat from the hot afternoon sun when he finally looked up at her.

"Pretty girl, you ever going to help me?" He was only half joking; you'd be surprised how hard putting up a portable bar actually was.

Brooke checked the imaginary watch on her wrist. "Actually, boyfriend, it's break time. C'mon, there's water inside, as well as the salvation of shade. Let's go!" She patted him cheerily on the back, urging him up.

The two mutually decided on a longer break on the couch when they were inside. Brooke plopped down, looking beat and staring around at the fruits of their labor: streamers and balloons were arranged tastefully throughout the house, and Jamie and Nathan would be home soon with more to add. "Hard work, huh?" Brooke asked as Lucas sat down with a laugh. He had been the one receiving the brunt of her slave-driving. "But you know I love a—"

Her words were suddenly cut off when she turned to face Lucas and his lips covered hers. The surprise made Brooke's body go rigid for a moment, but she quickly submitted into his arms, kissing back. Their bodies moved closer and closer until the light of day couldn't be seen between them, and their arms raked each others backs.

When the need for oxygen became too great, Lucas finally broke away, instead trailing soft kisses down Brooke's neck and jawline, while she arched her back into him, breaths coming out in sighs. "How long is it until Nathan and Jamie get home?" he murmured into her skin.

Forcing herself away from him, Brooke looked at her cell phone. "Still like fifteen minutes." She was taking long, steadying breaths. Lucas sidled closer to her, twisting a lock of Brooke's hair.

"Nathan and Haley have a spare bedroom," he said, pressing his lips to her neck once more. The words came out in a rush, he wasn't thinking about it. "We could go up there, we've plenty of time."

Brooke pulled away from his kiss involuntarily, almost like a flinch. She jumped away, breaking their contact. As the realization of what had happened sunk in, Brooke angled her head away from Lucas's questioning gaze, desperately trying to gather her fleeting thoughts.

"Brooke, what's wrong?" Lucas couldn't figure it out: one moment they were getting along fine, together and happy, and the next Brooke seemed almost scared. She had never been like this before…

Brooke took a steadying deep breath, and Lucas knew she was trying to compose herself. Trying to erase the lust that he knew was running through her veins, as well as shrugging off her breakdown. She turned back to him with ill-concealed nervousness. "Nothing—"

"I forgot to add no lying to the question. What's up?"

The flimsy façade of indifference collapsed, and Brooke sighed. "Ok, don't take this the wrong way, but… I don't want sex just yet." _How preteen-novel cheesy was that? _Brooke added in her mind.

Had Lucas been in high school, he would have fallen off the couch in shock. Now, his mouth just opened and closed in mild surprise. But as he thought about it more, it seemed strangely calming. Brooke wasn't the same person as she was. Lucas had even kinda expected something like this. Still, they were both in the heat of the moment, and he couldn't conceal his confusion or even mild disappointment.

"I do want this Lucas. Well, you know me, Brooke Davis, of course I want it, but that's beside the point. Peyton just said some things that night. And yeah, I know she was angry, and not thinking straight, and probably trying to hurt me, but it made sense. I don't want to be the rebound girl, the used one while you pursue other interests. I want to really, really want it, Luke, and I'm just not sure right now."

As lucid thought returned to Lucas, he opted to stay silent. Really, what do you say when the queen of 'friends with benefits' in high school tells you she wants to wait? Looking back, Lucas realized there were a million things he could have said, some comforting, some agreeing, but at the time none of them seemed to fit.

After she recognized that he wasn't going to say anything, Brooke let out a strangled laugh and she tried to lighten the mood. "Plus, I don't think I could ever have sex in Haley's house anyways." In unison, Brooke and Lucas really laughed and looked around the room, agreeing on that fact.

The mood lightened in those moments, and by unspoken agreement, Brooke and Lucas forgot what had just happened.

"Do you know Haley was the one that orchestrated all of this?" Lucas asked, waving his arm around.

"Her…birthday party?"

"No," he snorted, "Haley arranged everything from me coming over to help you with Jamie to the dinner last week. She wanted to try us out together."

The disbelief, incredulity, and mild amusement was clearly evident in Brooke's shout of laughter. "I love tutor wife, but she can be a real conniving— well, really conniving sometimes." She shook her head.

"That's Haley for you. But, it worked out, didn't it?"

"Yeah," she admitted, "Can't tell you how much I owe that girl. We'll pay her back with tonight, ok?"

"Ok, but I don't know if we're up for a 'Brooke' party." Brooke hit him on the chest.

"Hey! My parties can be kid-friendly! They just get… friendlier… after the kids go to sleep!"

"Yeah, I'll bet," muttered Luke. This earned him another punch.

They were talking and teasing easily and naturally, but Lucas knew that the conversation was changing when he saw Brooke's ever-smiling face waver, the sunny confidence falter for all of an instant and she looked away, just as she had minutes ago. He felt a twinge of regret that they were losing a moment like this, but he knew all too well what Brooke needed to get off her chest.

Sure enough, just seconds later: "Are we ever going to talk about this?"

He sighed then, visibly. Lucas knew what she was talking about, but he didn't want to face it. Facing it would mean rehashing that night, something he was against whole-heartedly right now. But still, he asked, "Talk about what?"

"That night. Peyton. You. Me. Us. I feel like we are cheating, Luke, acting like everything's fine when it isn't." As Brooke said this, Lucas got up and turned away, occupying himself with old pictures on the mantle while he figured his thoughts.

"What is there to talk about?"

Brooke's face turned incredulous, and her voice rose ever so slightly. "Hmmm, maybe the fact that on the night you told me you loved me, Peyton saw us and has been avoiding us since and we still sit here pretending everything's ok?" The sparks of an impending argument were crackling in the air, but Lucas wasn't backing down.

He looked at a picture on the mantle, taking it down. "Do you remember this?" Lucas held it up for Brooke to see. It was a picture of Haley singing at Tric, probably back from junior year. "Nathan and Haley were fighting then, before she left for the tour. You didn't know it, but they were talking about a divorce." He left out a humorless half-laugh, and put the picture back. "Most people can't see a good thing when it's right in front of them."

"Are you talking about Nathan and Haley, Luke… or us?" Brooke looked up earnestly from the couch, and Lucas suddenly whirled to face her.

"I _love _you, Brooke." He put as much emphasis on the word love as possible, his face taking on that lost puppy look, desperate, like he couldn't make her see. "And I don't see why anything else matters. You and me, we're acting like everything's ok _because it is_. And I know you feel… insecure about Peyton and how she'll influence us, but I never loved Peyton," Lucas finished sincerely.

Brooke snorted in anger and incredulity, and it was then that Lucas realized he had something wrong. "Lucas," she said, shaking her head for the right words, "You can't do that. You can't say that. Every time you're with a girl, you try and erase all of your past history. You did it with me, with Peyton, and most likely with Lindsey." They were at an impasse right now, teetering on an uneven truce with themselves; something had to give before they could settle again.

"Brooke—" Lucas's voice rose in angry defiance of these accusations, but Brooke stood up, interrupting.

"You can't tell me that you've never loved anyone else, because you have. You loved Lindsey, you loved Peyton, and you loved me. Erasing your history doesn't make us feel more secure. I know what happened with Lindsey and Peyton."

"And I'm sorry for that, Brooke, I'm sorry for wasting time with them," Lucas finally interjected, "but it's you and me now, and questioning why isn't going to do anything," he finished softly, trying to meet her averted eyes and make her see.

But she just shook her head, setting her jaw and gritting her teeth angrily. "Whatever. Nathan and Jamie'll be home soon, so we should finish the bar." She tried to push past him, but Lucas caught her arm, and she turned once more, reluctantly.

He looked at her fierce expression, meeting it with calmness. "Just so you know, pretty girl, you were never the rebound."

Jamie rolled down the aisle of Party-Mart delightedly in a cart pushed by Nathan. The two were on their way out, but Jamie kept reaching for everything in sight. "Let's get her this, Daddy!"

Nathan heaved a fake sigh. "Jimmy-Jam, we already got everything. Now we have to get home, or Aunty Brooke will do bad things to your daddy."

"Like what?"

Nathan thought for a moment. "I don't want to find out."

"Ok," Jamie said simply. He remained still in the cart for another five feet or so. "Daddy, let's get Momma this!"

"Oh boy," Nathan muttered, rolling his eyes to the spot that Jamie was pointing to, but then he froze.

Lying alone on the shelf was a small purple beaded bracelet.

_The sun glinted off the river in the early morning, but Nathan was more concerned with the pissed off look on his tutors face. She definitely didn't look like the other girls at school; she wasn't hot like Theresa or Bevin, but she was just… pretty. Or maybe she only looked different because she wasn't swooning over him like most girls._

"_Breakfast of Champions," he said with a cocky grin. Walking up to the bench, he set down a box of Cracker Jacks and two cups of coffee. "Want some?"_

_Her answer was cold. "You're late."_

_He ignored her, opening the box anyways. "Oh, please let this be a cheat sheet," he said as he opened the prize. When a small, purple bracelet fell out, Nathan looked up at Haley._

"_It's for you." _

_She rolled her eyes slightly. "Stop it." But she reluctantly let him slip the bracelet on, and he sat back with a satisfied grin._

"_Don't say I never gave you anything."_

_That had been it. That was the first moment Nathan had ever known Haley James, and one of his fondest memories that often came to him late at night, when he lay next to her and listened to her breathe. He always remembered that moment, and every time he looked at the bracelet he relived it all._

"Daddy!" Nathan smiled nostalgically and looked down at Jamie, who was holding up a phone. Instantly, Nathan snapped out of his dazed trance, remembering that he was supposed to be on his way home, and deliver the party supplies to Brooke and Lucas.

"Oh damn-- Brooke," he muttered to himself, but Jamie heard him as Nathan took the phone.

"It's Uncle Lucas," Jamie said.

On a sigh of relief, Nathan greeted, "Hello?"

"Hey, Nate, I just called to tell you something—" Lucas's voice had an underlying frantic tone.

"Yeah? Oh, wait, I have another call, can you hold on?" Nathan asked casually. As he took the phone away from his ear to press the change button, he heard his bother's last words.

"Wait, Nathan! Well, I'm sorry about this--"

The call clicked dead, and he answered the other call. "Hello?"

Yeah, Nathan was sorry too.

"_NATHAN SCOTT!! I'M HERE SETTING UP, _or, rather, Lucas is, but that's besides the point, _AND YOU ARE GOD KNOWS WHERE, SO YOU'D BETTER PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR—"_

Nathan wrenched the phone away from his ear, fearing eardrum damage, and Brooke's rant became a blur. Other shoppers just stared as Nathan gave his cell phone terrified looks and held it like a bomb.

"Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok, ok," he said frantically, now understanding Lucas's tone, and trying to subdue Brooke. "Look, I'm on my way out, we got everything, I'll be home in five minutes, ok?" He shut the phone before she had a chance to respond.

Grabbing a laughing Jamie under one arm in a football carry and pushing the cart with another, Nathan took off on a sprint down the aisle. Even in this stressed state, the bracelet stayed in the back of his mind. Maybe he would plan his own surprise for Haley…

Six hours later, at around seven, the group was finally gathered in the entry way of the Official Naley Party Palace. Brooke stood on the stairs above the mass, trying to get everyone's attention, but all the while her gaze was fixed on Lucas. They had finished the bar just before Nathan got home, and hadn't said a word to each other since. Lucas and his brother stood like sentinels in the back, the only ones really paying attention. In the front, Jamie and Lily played beneath the watchful eye of Karen, who was also talking to Andy. Next to them stood Mouth, who was desperately trying to get Millicent to look at him, but she stood with her stony gaze straight at Brooke. Millicent was looking very unhappy next to Rachel, who seemed to be having the most fun. She was trying to engage Peyton in conversation about some 70's band that Brooke had never heard of.

"Ok everybody, when Haley gets here, we'll all surprise her—"

"Gee, thanks for the clarification on '_surprise party_'!" Someone in the back yelled. Brooke shot that general area a nasty glare, then turned to the window, too excited to fight.

"Ok, ok, she's here! Everyone hide!"

"Oh, really? Yeah, thanks for the reminder," the same person said. Brooke thought it was Rachel.

"Enough with the sarcasm!" There was a general scramble and the lights were switched off. Brooke and Lucas ducked behind the large houseplant.

"Hey, pretty girl," Lucas whispered in her ear, "Look, I'm sorry about today." He seemed to be taking advantage of the darkness and silence of the room, knowing that she couldn't ignore him. "I know you how you feel about Peyton when you and I are together, and I try to help that insecurity as best I can, I don't know how."

Her eyes slid momentarily from the doorway to his face, but darted back when she saw him looking.

"Obviously I didn't go about it right, and it sucks that it made you feel worse. But I am sorry, pretty girl." Lucas's hot breath tickling her ear made Brooke smile, and a shiver ran down her spine. "Can you forgive me so we can go have fun?"

It was all she wanted to hear. Brooke smiled and nodded to him, pressing a finger to her mouth before she enveloped his lips in a quick kiss.

"Hello?" came Haley's voice from the doorway, interrupting their moment. "Nathan? Jamie? Sorry I'm late, but Brooke sent me on all these stupid errands." Brooke made an angry movement, but Lucas subdued her with another small kiss.

"Nate?" Her voice was tenser, as if she was just realizing something wasn't right.

"Surprise!"

Everyone jumped out at once, and Haley almost fell over. She swore loudly, causing Jamie to say, "Mama!"

"Holy… Oh my god," Haley said, running a hand over her shocked face while Nathan went to put an arm around her.

"Happy birthday, Hales," he said, and she threw him a dark look. Shock still showed through her laughing face. "And technically, I didn't surprise, you, Brooke and Lucas planned this. My hands are clean!"

"Got around me on a loophole, huh? Well, I love you for it." She smirked and gave him a little punch. "Where are Brooke and Lucas anyways?"

Everyone looked around, searching for the couple. They were no where to be found, no Brooke claiming to be the mastermind of everything or Lcuas modestly slinging a hand over her waist. After a minute of looking, Rachel finally rolled her eyes and snorted in derision.

"Here they are," she said. The red-head pulled back the house plant to reveal Brooke and Lucas intertwined, kissing passionately. "I swear, they're like horny rabbits."

The crowd laughed, and Brooke and Lucas sheepishly emerged. Lucas was rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, but Brooke looked very satisfied. "Surprise, tutor girl?" she offered with a guilty smile.

Haley rolled her eyes. "Yep, it was."

After all the "Happy Birthdays" and "Hello's" had been exchanged, the group migrated to the living room. They all sat down, laughing and talking with their drinks from the bar. Everyone that is, except for Millicent and Mouth. It seemed only Rachel noticed this. She got up and went over to Millicent.

"Hey, Mill, can I talk to you outside?" Rachel pleaded. Millicent's face changed completely. "Just outside, I just need a second." It must have been the pleading look, because Millicent grabbed her drink and went out the back door.

"Ok, thank you," Rachel said when they were outside and the door was shut, "I just wanted to say—"

Millicent threw the drink in Rachel's face.

"_God DAMN! _What is it with you people and throwing drinks at me at Nathan and Haley's parties?" Rachel yelled, reeling and wiping vodka out of her face.

"Ok, I'll talk to you now. Whatcha need?" asked Millicent in a falsely cheery voice.

The anger bled out of Rachel's face. "Ok, look, I guess I deserved that. I'm not asking you to forgive me, nor even accept my apology. All I need you to do is accept Mouth's. Just hear me out. What happened with Mouth, it wasn't his fault. It was mine; you have to understand our history. Back in high school, I was in a pretty dark place, despite what people will tell you. Mouth is the only one who got it, and I guess you could say he saved me. And that morning you saw, I was drunk and lonely, and I just wanted to feel that safety again. When you came in, Mouth was trying to push me off of him, and he even said he wouldn't cheat on you. He's a good guy, and I'm sorry I lost him. But for you to lose him over something I did, or for him to lose you wouldn't be right. You can hate me all you want, but don't punish Mouth for this."

Millicent remained silent.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Here you go, the second part of the party. It took me a while to update, but I'm willing to bet that it'll start going faster soon as the actual show is starting up, and it never fails to pique my interest again. So, read, enjoy, review, be happy. Thanks for reading!**

"So H. James, you having a good birthday?" Brooke slapped her hand on the counter, grabbing Haley's attention.

"Now that my heart rate returned to normal, yeah, it's great. But really, thank you so much for doing this, Brooke," Haley thanked the brunette.

"Well, it's my way of saying 'thank you' for what you did with me and Luke. He told me."

"Well then, you're welcome. It was actually kind of fun, being that sneaky and clever," she laughed.

Brooke laughed as well. "The only thing I don't really get is why. Why did you suddenly want Lucas to be with me?" Haley shrugged.

"I'm not entirely sure myself. I just saw how crappy Lucas has been doing lately, and I wanted to help him, to make him feel better. I saw how happy he seemed to be with you, and I wanted to see if that could be expanded upon at all."

"That makes sense," Brooke agreed, "I didn't even realize I _needed_ him until he kissed me that night. I owe you so much, tutor-wife. But I'm going to be watching for that conniving side of you from now on, because we'd all better look out if Haley James ever tries something like that again. God knows we'd be in trouble then. People will start calling you Victoria's daughter."

Haley shrugged, and innocent yet devious look on her face. "We'll see."

* * *

Lucas walked over to Mouth, who was watching Millicent with a drink in his hand.

"Hey Mouth, are you ok?"

"Hey Luke. Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking." Mouth had that 'lost' look on his face.

Lucas looked across the room at Millicent. "So you're with Millicent now?" Mouth swallowed hard.

"Truthfully, I have no idea. And you and Brooke are together?"

Luke smiled contentedly, leaning against the counter and taking a small sip of his drink. "Yeah. Non-conditionally this time," he joked.

"Jeez, it's about time. I've been waiting for this for like, four years, Luke," laughed Mouth, taking Lucas by surprise.

"What?" he asked. Mouth had never said anything much about Brooke and Lucas's relationship.

"It's kind of… expected, at least to me. You two always seemed good for each other, like you just clicked." He took a big swig of his drink, and Lucas felt his relationship with Brooke wasn't the only one that Mouth was talking about. Lucas followed his line of sight right to Millicent.

"It'll work out," Lucas suddenly said.

"What? Who told you?"

Lucas raised his hands in surrender. "No one told me, man, but she'll come around. Don't worry, you're a great guy and she'll start missing you."

"Says the guy who changes girls seasonally." But Mouth was only joking; Lucas lightheartedly pushed him, both laughing.

* * *

The night wore on, getting later and later. The guys started a videogame tournament, with Nathan and Jamie vs. Lucas and Andy. The game eventually evolved into such a joke that it was unclear who won in the end. The fun became a blur, everyone laughing and talking.

Peyton stood leaning against the bar, one arm crossed in front of her stomach, the other nursing the drink at her lips. She surveyed the couple across the room as they held each other and laughed with the group surrounding them. A flash of bitter distaste flicked across her face for a moment, but she chased it away. Peyton changed her face back into what it had been as of late: a stone mask of indifference, a wall around her roiling emotions. There was resentment, of course, self-explanatory. Confusion, as expected. But green envy reigned supreme, twisting her insides like snakes whenever she saw _them._ She hated herself for thinking such small-minded thoughts, it didn't fit this situation. Jealousy had always seemed… so beneath what was going on now. Peyton supposed it was this irritation at herself that she projected onto them, lifting some of the weight from her shoulders.

Sure, it was petty. But it made looking at them a helluva lot more bearable.

Peyton took another swig.

"So, this is how it ends," a voice drawled cynically from her right. Funny, it seemed to be the exact tone of whet she was feeling on the inside: sarcastic, detached, impassive. "A fifteen year friendship, one that survived two dead moms, 3 absentee parents, and the Bermuda love triangle from hell. Well, survived that last one for a while, anyways."

"Well, look who it is, the birthday girl! Cheery as usual, I see," Peyton shot back just as dryly, but her face broke into a wide grin as she turned to see Haley. "Happy birthday, tutor girl." Regardless of what she was feeling towards Brooke and Lucas, it was a part time deal. She would be happy now, for Haley's sake, Peyton resolved to herself as she accepted Haley's hug. Peyton was better than that.

"It's going well, its fun to have everybody together again, good to see everyone interacting like old times."

Peyton bobbed her head in agreement.

"So how you been?" asked Haley.

The blonde shrugged nonchalantly. "Pretty good, if you don't count that m life is being made into a horror film." Her voice had that detached, bored tone, as is they were discussing the weather. It was evident that Peyton was retreating behind her wall again. It was a defense mechanism, an instinct. Same with her nastiness to most people, like Brooke.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Peyton nodded absently. "It's a sequel. Appropriately titled, too. 'Brucas: The Return.'" She put her hands up like she was tracing a movie title. _Hmm, I wonder where that optimism and happy thoughts went? _Peyton asked herself for half a second. _Well, easy come easy go._

"Look, just give them a chance, ok? I know it hurts and that you don't think it's right, but it'll work out." Haley paused to take in Peyton's shrug. "Here, look at them," Haley said, and turned Peyton's body so she was facing the scene she had been watching for a half hour. "Don't they look happy? Doesn't Luke look happy? When was the last time you saw either of hem like that, truly content. _Just give it a chance, _Peyton, please." She seemed really concerned for her friends, and Peyton relented.

"Fine," she agreed without enthusiasm. Her heart was still clenching and unclenching, but Peyton decided that at least her outer wall should have a brighter outlook. If only for keeping up appearances.

"That's my girl. Now, what else is eating at you? Bad things seem to come in threes with you."

True. "They let him out," Peyton confessed, surprising ever herself with the easy collapse. "Rather, they're admitting him to a hospital, under guard."

"Who?" Haley's query was suspicious and slightly wary.

"Derek. Ian. I got a letter last week, he wants to see me. He's dying, and they said the best place to see him would be the airport, before he's admitted to the hospital. They're putting him on lockdown." Her voice was strangely monotonous; having played the situation over so many times in her head, it had lost all real shock value.

"Wha—Are you going to go?"

"That's just it; I don't know. A part of me hates him, despises him, but another part feels connected, and that if I see him dying, I won't think of him again," she explained. Peyton waited for Haley's vehement argument against going, to tell Peyton she shouldn't go. But it didn't come.

"Then you should," admitted Haley, "I saw what he did to you, not just physically, and I can see it even now. If you think there is even the slightest chance to end that, then you should take it.

Peyton looked away then, around at the party. "But is it really worth it to put myself through seeing him?"

"It is, if it means a lifetime of not thinking about him."

* * *

"Alright, Lily, I think it's time to go," came Karen's voice, finally. It was nearing ten o'clock, and both Lily and Jamie were exhausted, although neither of would admit it before the other.

"But Mo-_om," _Lily moaned, as she rubbed her bleary eyes. "I'm not tired."

Nathan looked at Jamie. "Yeah, Jimmy-Jam, I think it's your bedtime too."

"But I want to stay here with the party!" the four-year old complained. He looked around for a sympathetic face.

"Come on, Jame, do you really think we could have a party without you?" Lucas faked-scoffed. "As soon as you go to bed, everyone else is going home."

"Really?" Lily and Jamie asked at the same time. Their faces seemed to lighten a bit.

"Really," answered Peyton. "You guys are all the fun." The others nodded as the two kids considered.

"Ok," Lily finally conceded. Andy scooped her up, and she curled comfortably into his arms. "Bye, everybody." Her face framed with brunette locks seemed so little and angelic as she waved.

"Bye everyone," Andy echoed, "And thanks for the party."

"Happy Birthday, Haley," added Karen as they went out the door. Haley waved one last time, and then turned back to Jamie, who hadn't seemed to make up his mind yet.

"And now, my boy, it's your bedtime." Jamie heaved a huge sigh, obviously fighting back sleepiness with everything in his little body. Haley shepherded him upstairs. She was back down within five minutes to report that he was already asleep.

* * *

As Brooke had promised earlier in the day, the party picked up a little more after the kids were asleep. The bar began to deplete more rapidly, helped mostly by Rachel, Brooke, and to everyone's surprise, Mouth.

"…And so then she holds up her hands and goes 'Idunno!'" Rachel laughed hysterically, acting out her story. She was standing with Brooke, Nathan and Mouth, telling a joke at Brooke's expense, from what Lucas could pick up. "She was _wasted. _Well, as wasted as you can get off two bottles." The red-head was almost doubled up, the joke obviously not the only thing making her laugh. Lucas walked over and wrapped an arm around Brooke's waist, drawing her closer to him. He could see her cheeks were flushed.

Brooke turned and put her lips to his ear. "How about we go upstairs for a little while?" With her hot breath tickling his ear and the warm pressure of her body against his, as well as the bit of liquor in his system, Lucas had to grit his teeth together just to remain sane. Slowly, rigidly, he nodded. Brooke's face broke into a sly grin.

"Lead the way, pretty girl," he said, with darkened eyes, and she held her hand out to lead him upstairs.

* * *

Haley's eyes followed the couple as they retreated upstairs and disappeared. Turning around to look at Nathan, whose lap she was sitting on, Haley was surprised to see him with his eyebrows raised and his body shaking with suppressed laughter. "Shouldn't we go get them?" she asked incredulously.

"Haley, it's a bit late now, don't you think? I am not walking in on my brother," Nathan said adamantly with smirk.

"Fine then, I'll go stop them," Haley announced. She made to get up but Nathan held her down.

"It's too late now, Haley. Besides, everyone else is down here and they're all a little drunk and a lot entertaining, we can just have fun, and not worry about that right now. It's not like we can stop it." Nathan laughed and shook his head with a shrug. He hugged her a little closer to seal the deal.

As soon as Haley conceded him the point, there was a loud knock at the door. The noise of everyone laughing and talking in the living room and kitchen seemed to quiet as they all looked to the entryway, as if they could see who was coming in at 11 at night.

"Everyone who we invited was already here," Nathan mused aloud as he got up to go to the door. The group heard the door open and suddenly there was a jumble of invisible voices that no one could identify. But just seconds later, someone they all knew walked in, his arms thrown wide in anticipation of his welcome.

"Skills is back!" Skills shouted, to general laughter and cheering.

* * *

After a few more minutes of greetings, and some more joking, Skills, Fergie and Junk all grabbed a drink from the bar. Skills was complaining about the lack of booze on the ship he had been on.

"So how was it, Skills?" Rachel asked. "The ship didn't sink, did it?"

Skills looked around. "Nah, Shorty, the boat didn't sink. I'm still here, ain't I?" He suddenly leaned in with suspicion. "How drunk are you?"

Rachel just giggled and covered her mouth. Everybody around her laughed knowingly.

"So where's Jamie, anyway? Did he go with Karen?"

Haley shook her head. "No, he's just upstairs, asleep."

"He's sleeping through this? Damn," Fergie said. It was true. The music was going, and everybody was still being loud; it was a miracle Jamie had even fallen asleep in the first place.

"How long is this thing—" Skills started, but suddenly Rachel slumped forward off the couch, and lay on the table. Skills looked at her with a weird face, then back at Nathan and Haley. "I was just going to say how long this'll this go, but apparently it's too long for her."

Nathan laughed. "Yeah, I think it's about time that Rachel got home, or else she'll be sleeping here."

"Yeah, I gotta go too. Just stopped in to say Happy B-Day," Skills nodded. Then he brightened, as if a lightbulb had just clicked on. "Hey, how bout I take Shorty here home?" He gestured to sleeping Rachel. Everyone nodded in assent, and Skills bent down to her eye level. Seeming to sense she was being talked about, Rachel woke up.

"Hey, Miss Gatina, I think you'd better stop drinking," he said quietly, comfortingly. He reached for her cup. "I'll take you home, make sure there's no more booze."

"No really, I'm fine," Rachel said, reaching for it back as Skills took her drink away. The rest of the group looked on, amused. "Really, I'm Irish, this stuff is like milk to me…" He was exceedingly gentle with her limp body as he walked her out of the room.

"Yeah, Gatina is about the most Irish name I've ever heard," Junk muttered sarcastically as he rose to follow Skills.

* * *

"Alright, I just wanna see Luke real quick before I go," Skills said five minutes later when Rachel was successfully in the car. This, however, was the first thing he said that was greeted by silence. Millicent giggled.

It got more and more uncomfortable as Skills looked around. Finally, Peyton, wishing to break the silence, rubbed her hands on her jeans and with a deep breath said, "Uh, I think I'll go get him. I need to talk to Lucas anyways." This was the truth. Peyton felt that she needed to talk to him, for some part of her still needed him, still wanted him; at the very least she needed a sense of _something_. There was still a possibility…

She walked wearily out of the room, knowing everyone's eyes were following her. Each step up the stairs sounded like the echo of the door closing on the day when he had told her that he loved someone else, that it was over between them. The party sounded far away, even as the talking picked up once more and a Killers song started on the stereo. Then Peyton reached the second story and turned towards the guest bedroom.

_Coming outta my cage and I've been doing just fine…_

* * *

In the moments after they went upstairs, they had opened the door quietly, for even in this state— Lustful and longing, intoxicated with eachother— they knew that the party downstairs was still going on, and that Jamie was just down the hall. They had matured in some respects since high school.

"I got the door," Brooke said. She walked to the door, intending to lock it, with an unsteady step, as Lucas sat down on the bed, panting. He watched her contemplatively, unsure, as she peeked outside and then turned back to him. Then Brooke crossed the room in three quick strides and straddled his lap.

"You wanna know what I think?" She leaned in. "I think that I'm going to be washing Haley's sheets tomorrow," she whispered suggestively, darkened eyes gazing into his. She giggled.

Lucas leaned back onto the mattress, pulling Brooke down so that she was laying on top of him. "So, what, you're pissed at me this afternoon, but now we're here?" he asked, pushing a lock of hear behind her ear. Brooke just rolled her eyes and pressed her lips firmly against his, delighting in the way he seemed to melt beneath her.

"Well, that was before I saw how hot you looked in that shirt," Brooke finally answered when the need for oxygen became too great and she pulled away. "I just wanted to finish what we started behind that plant earlier…" She took his lips again, the kiss more heated than the last, innocent, loving one.

He didn't question this time, and instead pulled her closer, raking his hands over her back. He couldn't be close enough to her…

* * *

Meanwhile, Peyton was padding softly down the hall towards the guest room. She could barely hear the music downstairs; instead, the song seemed to be playing in her head because she had heard it so many times.

She reached the partially ajar door and paused for a second to listen. _Count your blessings, _she told herself with a smirk, _At least it's quiet._

The thought sent a wave of calm strength over her, and Peyton poked her head silently around the door.

Brooke and Lucas were laying together intertwined, kissing desperately, as if afraid they would lose one another if they let go. Lucas's shirt was half-unbuttoned, exposing the tan, chiseled chest and abs, but that seemed as far as it had gotten.

"I love you, Lucas Scott," Brooke moaned into hot skin of his neck, breaking the kiss for just a second.

Peyton's stomach turned over.

_Now they're going to bed_

_And my stomach is sick_

_And it's all in my head but_

_She touching his chest now_

_He takes off her dress now_

_Let me go_

_And I just can't look_

_It's killing me_

_It's taking control_

_Jealousy…_

She didn't need to hear Lucas's response. She knew what it would be; she had heard it so many times, spent hours wishing he would say it to her, Peyton, instead.

_I love you too pretty girl,_ she thought mockingly to herself. Almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, Peyton cursed herself for thinking such petty thoughts. Ashamed. The darkness that had been hovering around her for weeks now suddenly constricted. It became harder to breathe, and her vision blurred as she staggered down the hallway. It wasn't until she felt the hot wetness on her cheeks that she realized she had tears in her eyes.

Really, she should be used to this by now. She looked pathetic. She felt pathetic.

But she couldn't help it. He was slipping away. The bathroom door slammed shut behind her, cutting off all sounds of the party below. Not that she was listening anyway.

When was this going to end?

* * *

Back downstairs, Skills seemed to be getting impatient. "Dude, Peyton went upstairs to get Luke like ten minutes ago, where are—" The look of dawning comprehension lit up his face. Collectively, the entire party went silent as they watched him. Skills looked around and cracked a cheeky, knowing smirk. "I see why Peyt wanted to go get Mr. Lucas Scott," he said, "But we got Shorty to take home, so I think it would be ok to drop in on them real fast. Interrupt their 'reunion'," Skills finished with air quotes, then jogged upstairs.

Haley lolled lazily on Nathan's shoulder for a second, but then she jolted up and swore.

Nathan shook his head and shrugged. "It's too late now, Hales."

* * *

Brooke and Lucas were still laying together. Having finally pulled away from him, Brooke trailed a finger over his jaw and neckline. She watched his blue eyes glaze over as her wandering finger got lower and lower on his torso until he finally clamped them shut.

"Brooke," he said in a soft voice, completely surprising her. She hadn't expected a conversation now. "Do you really think we are going to have drunken sex?"

She looked slightly confused. "Was that… a rhetorical question?" she asked seriously.

Lucas laughed and rolled his eyes, propping himself up on one elbow so he could see her properly. "Just this afternoon, you were yelling at me for trying to erase history. Now you are trying to seduce me. Not going to work, Brooke Davis."

She sighed. "I wasn't mad about the fact that you were 'erasing history'. Well, I kinda was, but at least you acknowledged you were doing that. I hated the fact that you weren't saying what you should've been. I needed to hear you say it, Luke, that you loved Lindsey, and that you loved Peyton. I wanted to forgive you so bad, I missed you. And then you said what you should have this afternoon, and the apology was like it was supposed to be. And it was like it was supposed to be with us."

Lucas smiled. "You're pretty good at speeches, you know."

"Yeah, I hang around you too much," Brooke shrugged and smiled. "But I wasn't kidding about that shirt thing. You do look pretty damn hot. And now, getting back to where we were—" she rolled to kiss him again, but Lucas pulled away.

"Do you really think we are going to have drunken sex?" he said with a cock of his eyebrow. Before Brooke could open her mouth, he continued, "Because you said this afternoon it wasn't what you wanted. So it's not what I want either. You're not going to have to wake up regretting it."

Lucas sincerely hoped she wouldn't test him; he wasn't sure how long he could hold up that promise if she kept going at this pace.

But she looked away, to his relief. "You certainly know how to sober a girl up, Lucas Scott."

She said it in such a way that he almost felt guilty. Like he was depriving her of something, rather than looking out for her. He knew that his way was right, and that she would appreciate it, but it didn't erase that guilt. _Well, _he reasoned with a roguish smile, _I should make her feel better, somehow. _Lucas placed one hand on her lower thigh, massaging the skin there. "It'll mean something," he said quietly. Brooke stayed silent. She didn't notice his hand steal an inch higher, still moving in slow circles.

His hand went up again, almost at the hem of her skirt. Brooke's breath hitched. "What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously with an inquiring raise of her eyebrow.

Lucas's gaze turned from his hand to her face. He wore a slightly smug expression. "I can see it in your eyes," he whispered, his hand inching upwards with every word. "It's nothing you don't want me to." He leaned his head close to hers and their lips crashed together heatedly…

Just then the door banged open.

"That's my _boy_," Skills yelled, "Getting back with P. Sawyer, I knew— Crap." Brooke and Lucas broke apart instantly, looking like embarrassed teenagers caught in high school. Skills looked just as guilty. "_Damn! _I gotta stop doing this!" He half shouted to himself, but then he looked back at the two on the bed. "Well, hey, Brooke Davis, Luke." The words seemed to be coming out of their own accord, like Skills had no control of what he was saying. "Uh, I just wanted to say hi, but it seems you got some uh, _work,_ to do, so I'll see you later, Lucas." He nodded, and with a quick wave of goodbye, turned on one heel and disappeared down the hall. It was almost as if he couldn't wait to be out of the situation. The whole exchange took less than thirty seconds, and Skills was gone as quickly as he had come.

As soon as he was gone, Brooke turned slowly to Lucas, a face frozen in complete mortification. Then she burst out laughing.

* * *

When Skills came down the steps just a few minutes later, he threw one hurried glance to everyone in the kitchen. But as soon as they caught the uncomfortable look on his face, the entire party burst into hysterics. Obviously, they figured out what had happened upstairs.

Skills looked betrayed. "Screw all of you," he said, pointing a finger and trying to be serious. "Don't you ever do that again."

"Seems you have to learn to knock, Skills," Someone said. He rolled his eyes.

"I really thought it was Peyton! Where is curly, anyway?"

Haley shrugged uncomfortably. "She left just a few minutes after you went upstairs. She said she wasn't feeling well."

Just then a horn honked outside and Skills looked out the window. "Speaking of not feeling well, I gotta go get Shorty home. Happy birthday, Haley James." He nodded a goodbye and got a quick hug from Haley and a handshake from Nathan, and he went out the door.

* * *

"Hey, Rachel," Skills said a few minutes later when they were in the car. "Hey, we gonna get you home, ok?" he said gently. Skills sat in the back with her, keeping the redhead upright in her seat. Junk and Fergie were in the front.

"Ok," she murmured, falling onto his shoulder sleepily.

"Just drink plenty of water. Damn, you'll be feeling it tomorrow."

"Shut up. Don't remind me." Her brow furrowed over her closed eyes. Skills just laughed and adjusted his body so she would be more comfortable.

* * *

Bed at the Naley house, Brooke was cracking up. She and Lucas were still upstairs, with him sitting on the bed watching her in bewildered silence as she leaned against the closed door. Brooke's laughing face was exactly opposite of Lucas's awkward one. She was just trying to gather up the somberness to go back downstairs.

"What, you think this is funny?" he finally asked, standing up. Brooke stopped giggling immediately.

Brooke stood up straight, tilting her head upwards to meet eyes with Lucas. She placed one hand on the doorknob behind her. Then her face took on that same daring look, defiant and challenging him to come any closer. The same look she had worn when trying to get him to stay over back in senior year, during their non-exclusive stint. The fiercely mischievous, yet so, so innocently suggestive look. Lucas thought she was the only girl who could pull it off perfectly.

"Yeah, I do."

Lucas decided to risk it. He stepped closer, so that their bodies were almost touching, and he had to look straight down to Brooke. "Well I'm not laughing. And you're not leaving." His voice dropped to a threatening murmur.

She kinked one eyebrow dubiously. "And you're going to stop me?"

"Yeah, I am."

Suddenly, Lucas grabbed Brooke and lifted her off the ground, cradling her in both arms. "No, Lucas stop!" she screamed, laughing. "Stop, you're going to drop me!"

Lucas just rolled his eyes. "I know I am." He dropped her to the bed, trying his best not to laugh. He couldn't conceal a smile, though, as he climbed on top of her on the mattress and pinned her down. "I told you, pretty girl, that you weren't walking through that door," he muttered, nuzzling the sensitive skin behind her ear. His nose was flooded with her coconut vanilla perfume that rolled off her skin.

Brooke inhaled sharply at the sensation. "Shut up, Lucas," she retorted with difficulty.

"But you know you love me."

She paused to smile. "Without a doubt."

* * *

It wasn't until a half hour later that Haley and Nathan finally cleared everyone out. Brooke and Lucas had eventually come downstairs, although no one was really surprised. Mouth got a ride home with them, as Millicent had already called a cab and was gone by the time the party ended.

After Nathan closed the door for the final time that night, he walked back into the kitchen, where he was not surprised to see Haley cleaning up. "Hales, do I need to remind you that it's your birthday, and I should be cleaning up?"

Haley stopped and looked around. "No, I kinda figured that. But if I ever let you do it, we'd be in our golden years when this place was finally clean." She gave him a look to say that she was joking. Nathan raised his hands in defeat.

"Some party, huh?" He looked around at the scattered remains of streamers, balloons, cups, and plates.

Haley began washing the counter off, her back to him. "Yes, and I want to thank you for that. You made it prefect, even though I would have been content with just you and Jamie for tonight. But you're still in trouble for that surprise thing, got it?"

No reply.

"Nathan?" Haley called, pausing. She suddenly couldn't feel his presence in the room. "N-nate?"

When she turned around, all that was left was the red shirt he had been wearing lying on the ground. Other than that, there was no sign of her husband.

"Nathan?" she called disapprovingly. Then she saw a shoe on the floor in the next room. A black Nike, size 13. Haley went to pick it up, but saw another shoe lying at the foot of the stairs. "What?" she asked herself as she followed it.

The trail of clothes led up the stairs; Haley had grabbed a pair of socks, Nathan's undershirt, and his jeans by the time she was on the landing. Looking down the hall, she saw his boxers at the open doorway of their bedroom. Walking with a cautious, anxious step, she arrived at the door and pushed it open, knowing what she'd see.

And there was Nathan, fully clothed, hands in his pockets, grinning hugely. "Happy birthday," he teased, sensing her disappointment even if she didn't want to show it. "What were you expecting, Haley?" he asked politely, barely keeping a straight face. Haley gave him the finger, and Nathan doubled over. She stomped angrily from the room.

"Aw, Hales," he called, composing himself and following her out. "Come here."

"No, I'm mad at you," she said stubbornly. Nathan grabbed her by one wrist.

"Come here," he repeated huskily, the force of his tug pulling Haley into a kiss, with her body pressed up against his. "Better?" he asked tenderly when they finally pulled away. Haley bit her lip reluctantly, and Nathan admired the angry lines in his wife's flawless cream skin.

She was glaring with slightly less intensity now, but she still said a firm, stubborn, "No." Haley tried to wrench out of Nathan's folded arms, but he didn't let go. Instead, he pinned her against him with one hand and reached into his pocket.

Haley's anger, fake as it might have been, melted away as he slipped the small, purple beaded bracelet onto her wrist ever so gently. It was almost as if he was giving her a physical memory, it meant so much. Tilting her chin up so she could look at him, he smiled that little half-smile specifically reserved for her.

"Don't say I never gave you anything. Happy birthday, Haley James."

"Haley James-Scott."

* * *

**Alright, so there it is. I know everything seems good now, but we'll have some angst, I promise. Thanks for reading, and I promise this next chapter will be up quiker next time! Oh, and please review! :)**


	19. Chapter 19

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* * *

**

A/N: Hi everyone, here's the update! Wow I took a lot longer than I expected, so I apologize for that. :( Anyways, this chapter is basically the day after the party, you'll see.

**Alright, well, enjoy, review,all that good stuff that makes me write better. And, if you happen to read this AFTER the eppy tonight, leave a comment about that if you want. I'm totally loving the Dark Brooke right now, I think it'll be great to show off Sophia's talents. I just hope Brooke doesn't go psychotic and stay like this forever. I miss bubbly Brooke! Lol, and Lucas has the perfect oppurtunity to save her, so I hope he does.**

**Ok, 'nuff of that, read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

The second she opened her eyes and saw morning streaming through the window, the pain hit. Rachel rolled over in her empty king sized bed, burying her head in the pillow in an attempt to block the light out. Her head pounded each time blood pumped through her temples, and she could feel the pressure. She moved her thick, dusty carpet of a tongue, trying to swallow, but it was as if someone had dragged a metal rake over the soft flesh of her throat. Rachel's moan of pain came out as more of a dry cough. She rolled over again at the futility.

She decided to sleep it off, keep her head under the pillows and wait until her body would allow her to get up and get herself a glass of water to soothe her mouth and throat. It was just like another New York party; out until two A.M, drunk, then wake up in the morning to an empty apartment. Just like all the other times, she would let cool sleep overtake her to regain her strength, as no one else could take care of her.

There was no passage of time in this state. Rachel glanced over, away from the light, to see what time it was, and it was then that she noticed the glass of ice water on her nightstand. How strange.

Rachel stared at it for a second, and watched a drop of cool condensation roll down the side.

"You're supposed to drink it."

The masculine voice drifted from the doorway, and Rachel sat up quickly, drawing the covers around herself. She turned to see Mouth leaning against the doorframe, watching her with his hands in his pockets.

"Mouth," she greeted, confused, "What are you doing here?"

"Getting you water that you won't drink, apparently," Mouth said, glancing for a second to the table. His voice sounded hollow and betrayed no emotion. "Skills told me to make sure you're ok."

"How'd you get in?" Rachel sincerely hoped she hadn't left the door open last night.

"Skills again." Mouth held up a room card. "He had a feeling you would need taking care of today, so he grabbed it." Rachel had been staying in a long term motel.

"Well, tell him I said thank you."

All this small talk felt fake. Rachel desperately wanted to make amends for what had happened the other day, but she didn't know how. This wasn't exactly her area of expertise: she was more of a no strings attached girl. She had never been in a situation like this. She took a sip of the water to occupy herself.

His quietly caring eyes watched her for another moment or so in the silence. When she didn't say anything, Mouth straightened up.

"Well, I guess I should go now."

"No, Mouth, wait—" The words started spilling out before she could stop them. Regardless of whether or not she knew what she was going to say, Rachel had to say something. Mouth turned back from the living room of her suite. His face was blank, like this was nothing to him. Like she was nothing to him. Which, she reminded herself, was probably true.

"Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then I really don't want to talk. Call the apartment if you need anything."

Mouth's eyes grew more distant as he left without a nod or smile or wave of farewell. Rachel held up a half extended hand, as if she was going to pull him back with some invisible cord. She dropped it to the covers when she heard the door slam. He was gone again.

* * *

His eyes cracked open, surprisingly, to silence. Nathan looked around, expecting Jamie to jump on him at any moment.

But all he saw was Haley, propped up on one elbow, watching him. "It's about time you woke up," she said softly. Nathan smiled and looked over to see sunlight already pouring over their bed from the window. "You can never get up in the morning," she teased.

"Hey, whatever time I wake up is the beginning of the day," he retorted quickly, giving her that cocky half smile. She returned it. "So the party was pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah, except this handsome guy played a pretty low trick on me."

Nathan sat up. "Really? I'll have to see him about that. I'll make sure he won't do it again."

"Mmm. My hero." Haley shifted and squirmed into his arms, curling against his chest. "What are you going to do today?"

"I was planning on going to see Q, we'll shoot around a bit."

Haley raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Is Nathan Scott thinking about a return to the world of basketball?"

"I don't know about that, but we've been getting serious—"

"I want to start recording again," Haley suddenly blurted out.

"What?" asked Nathan, surprised but pleased. His eyebrows went up; this had really come out of nowhere. "Haley, that's great."

"Actually never mind, scratch that. Stray thought," she assured him hastily, confusing her husband even more; she could feel it in the way his body suddenly stiffened. Knowing Nathan was going to ask why, she continued, "Because I can't." It came out in a whisper. "What if my voice is horrible, and I can never sing again? Or what if Chris comes back, or what if Peyton doesn't have enough studio time, or what if she doesn't want to record with a has-been like me, or what if I am really good and I have to go on tour, and what if the same thing happens? Or what if—"

Nathan suddenly smiled at her. "Seven."

Haley stopped her rant mid sentence. "Huh?"

"You said what if seven times."

"I—Oh." It was obvious Haley had given a lot of thought to this all. Worried about it.

He laughed then, a deep timbre sound that sent shivers up and down Haley's spine and filled the sweet silence of the room. "You want to record, so record," urged Nathan. "Haley, you're voice is amazing. People should hear it. Keller won't come back, and if he does, we'll hook him up with Carrie for all I care. And I'm sure Peyton would love to record with you, so much so that she'll clear the studio until it's done. And when you go on tour, we'll be there, backstage, me and Jamie, waiting for you. Every night."

She seemed to glow at his confidence, and Haley's worried face broke into a wide smile. Jamie came in right as their lips met.

"Eww! Chester and me thought you would never wake up!" he complained, carrying the rabbit in. "You guys have been sleeping _forever!_"

Haley shrugged, arching one eyebrow as she broke reluctantly away from Nathan. "It could be worse. We could be Brooke right now."

* * *

"Uuuhnhnhnh, Luke!" Brooke moaned from beneath the pillow that she had pressed over her face. "Why the hell did I buy the bar? Why?"

Lucas leaned against the doorframe of his room, calmly watching his girlfriend fight the after-effects of the night before. "Because of your idiosyncratic party methods and your magnetism to such ostentatious things?" he offered, his voice teasingly light and refined. Lucas was truly, thoroughly entertained.

Brooke pulled the pillow off of her face for a second to glare at him. "Shut up." Lucas could imagine her grimace as he started to laugh. "Ugh, Lucas, if I ever drink that much again, throw me in a pool," she said, her voice muffled once more.

"No problem. I just have to up my life insurance beforehand, ok?"

"Deal."

Lucas decided it was time to wave the white flag. In an effort to draw her out from under the pillows, he announced, "Ok, peace offering, pretty girl: breakfast is in the kitchen."

"We're not at war."

Pushing off from the wall, Lucas grinned and looked her up and down as Brooke laid simmering on his bed. "Coulda fooled me."

After a few minutes, Brooke seemed finally able to sit up. Lucas brought in the frozen waffles he had cooked earlier, as well as three water bottles that he had slipped into the freezer last night before he and Brooke tumbled into bed. He set the plate in her lap and sat down.

"So where's Karen and Andy?" asked Brooke as she drowned her plate in syrup. She seemed to be feelings slightly better.

"They went out to breakfast together," Lucas said casually.

She turned to him with a curious expression. "What's going on with them? Are they together?"

"No, why?"

"Because he misses her, and wants to be there for her right now. Closer than he is already," she said bluntly, but Lucas couldn't have been more surprised. She popped a piece of waffle into her mouth as if her revelation was the most natural thing in the world.

"What? Did you talk to him?" Lucas's eyebrows knitted together.

"I can see it," Brooke said slowly, past the food in her mouth. She swallowed. "I understand it. The way he wants to be with her. But he can't. He loves her, but he's not blind to what happened when he was in New Zealand, when Karen was with Keith. Ever since he came back, he doesn't know where he stands with your mom anymore, romantically or not. He knows he can't possibly fill Keith's shoes, or he believes he can't. Andy is just waiting for a sign from her, waiting for her to make the first move so that… so that his heart isn't threatened. Because he knows what it'll do to him if she doesn't feel the same way; he's felt the heartbreak before."

The urgent feeling that had initially flooded his system faded now; Lucas thought more about what Brooke had revealed. It made sense, in a way, regardless to his mixed feelings about it. "How'd you know all this?

She shrugged, a simple gesture for a complex idea. "I can just see it. It's in his eyes, what he wants."

"Can you tell what I'm thinking then?" he asked casually.

Brooke sat up and placed one hand behind his neck, but instead of pulling him to her lips, as she usually would have done, she pulled his entire body down to the mattress. She snuggled into his arms, back against his chest, and looked over her shoulder at Lucas. "Did I guess right?"

"Well, it's not what I was thinking, but you get points for what I'm thinking now." He wrapped his arms around Brooke and grazed his lips over her neck.

"This is nice," she said presently, softly. Lucas nodded into her skin.

"Does it feel right to you?" he asked her, inhaling the scent from her hair. _Damn, even hungover and tired she still manages to smell like a goddess, _he thought.

"It does," she agreed.

There was a loud knock at the door from outside.

A flicker of annoyance flashed over Brooke's face as they both opened their eyes. She groaned.

"Ugh, you have the worst timing in the world, Luke! Can't we just leave it?" Brooke pleaded, groaning, but even as the words came out of her mouth the knock came again. Reluctantly, she relinquished her hold on his body. Reality came back, reality that there was a world outside the warm refuge of Lucas's room.

"Why am I not surprised that we get interrupted again?" Lucas thought halfheartedly aloud as he crossed the room, "I just needed another second or—" The door swung open. "Dan."

The devil of Lucas's personal hell stood in the doorway; a dark, hulking figure that starkly contrasted with the bright, angelic little girl that was standing next to him. He was holding her hand. Dan had that derisive look for half a second when Lucas' first opened the door, then his face cracked a wide grin that made Lucas wary, and they both looked down at Lily. She wore an uneasy look, not scared, but like she could sense the tension in the air and the hostility rolling off her older brother.

Behind him, Lucas heard Brooke's quiet intake of breath, and the rustle of the sheets as she sat up in bed, but she said nothing. The air seemed to thicken with seriousness.

"You know, you shouldn't leave her outside by herself, Lucas," Dan said, "Anyone could've grabbed her. Just be thankful I happened to drive by."

"Oh, yeah, I'm real thankful for that," Lucas snarled sarcastically. Dan just had that affect on him. "Lily, come inside."

After looking up at Dan, Lily slipped her hand out of his. "Go see Brooke, ok?" Lucas said. Looking back at Dan, Lucas's arms crossed over his chest and he unconsciously planted his feet slightly apart to fill the doorway, protecting his girls from Dan.

"I just want to get to know her, Lucas, just like with Jamie," Dan said with a shrug, getting right to the point for once. "She's my niece, and he's my grandson. They should make the choice whether or not they want to see me."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I am so tired of this soap opera drama crap! Dan, the only choice Lily should have to make right now is what candy to buy at the store, or what to do at school. And she won't ever have the opportunity to know you, just like Jamie. They aren't related to you, not even close." Lucas nodded down the stairs. "So get the hell outta my house."

"I—"

"Dan, I think you should leave now," Brooke said, surprising both the men at the door, who seemed to have forgotten her. Brooke had pulled Lily up into her lap, and had one arm around the girl. Even in a picture like that, she still managed to look and sound serious enough. But Dan merely leaned around Lucas to see the brunette.

"Ms. Davis." He nodded in greeting. He looked back to Lucas. "So you're sleeping with her now? Let me ask you, is it just for the sex, or did Peyton turn you down again and you needed a rebound?"

Lucas took one composing breath, focusing on is hand that was gripping the doorframe. When he finally looked back at Dan, he articulated carefully and clearly. "I'm going to give you five seconds to get the hell out of my sight."

"Alright, alright," Dan finally surrendered, holding up his hands in a shrug and trotting back down the steps. "I'm going." When he hit the grass, he turned back just once more and waved. "Bye, Lily. And you too Ms. Davis, I'll see you later." His face cracked into a cocky smirk.

He was five yards away from the steps when Lucas tackled him, hard. They fell to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs; Lucas had the advantage, but instead of punching Dan, as he normally would have done, he grabbed his biological father by the collar and leaned in close to his red face. "Don't play mind games with me, Dan," he whispered fiercely, "Stay away from my family, or l swear to god—"

But Brooke was by his side in a matter of seconds: it was as if she had been expecting this. "Luke, Lucas, come on," she urged, pulling at his shirt. Lucas stood up and Brooke put both hands on his chest, turning her back on Dan and pushing Lucas back to the house. All the while, Lucas was panting hard and he kept his eyes on Dan. Fierce, angry blue eyes that spoke volumes. Threats that he wanted to scream into the morning air, but Brooke's cool touch soothed the hurricane waves of fury. "Luke, not now, ok?" Dan was standing up, straightening his jacket, and for the first time that morning he seemed to have lost his detached façade and displayed some emotion, looked incensed.

His eyes flew back and forth between Lucas and Brooke, looking like a cornered animal preparing to fight its way out. His chest heaved, but before Lucas could take a threatening step forward, Dan composed himself. "You'll regret that, son." Even with the most cliché of all sayings, Dan managed to put a good amount of subtle danger into each word. Lucas's face remained unaffected. His clenched fists slowly relaxed as Dan climbed into his SUV and tore off down the street without so much as a second glance.

* * *

"Luke, why don't you like Uncle Dan?"

Lily sat with Lucas on the couch, curled onto his chest, both waiting for Brooke to finish getting ready and come out. Even though Dan was gone and Lucas's hurricane waves of anger had subsided to gentle ripples on calm water, he still kept Lily close to him, protecting her. They were mindlessly channel surfing, the kind of silent activity that is just enough distraction to allow one's mind to wander freely.

Lucas was brooding quietly when Lily asked him the question. He looked at her blankly as he considered what to say.

"Your Uncle is a bad person," Lucas decided, "Who has done a lot of bad things. If you ever see him again, come right inside and tell me or Andy, ok?" Lily nodded, and Lucas thanked some higher being for this four year-olds innocence. He couldn't bear to tell her about her father, Keith. But before they could fall back into their silence again, she asked another question.

"Why did Uncle Dan talk about Peyton?"

He had to smile at that one. "Because Peyton is Brooke's best friend, but neither of them know that right now. Brooke just hasn't seen Peyton for a while, and Dan was trying to be mean." He thought he heard a noise behind his bedroom door, but there was nothing.

Lily continued. "Oh. Do you love Aunty Brooke?"

"Of course I do," Lucas said, shifting her tiny body so that he could see her face better. He half-smiled at the mention of Brooke, and at Lily's question.

"Does she know that?" Lily's mature brown eyes, Keith's eyes, were very serious.

"Yeah, I think she does."

"Does she love you back?"

Lucas looked down, smiling. "I sure hope so, Lily. I don't know what I would do with myself if she didn't."

"Then you should tell her. Tell her that you love her, so that she'll love you back!" Lily exclaimed, smiling innocently. "You have to make sure that she loves you."

Brooke came out of the door at that moment, smiling and putting the finishing touches on her hair. The two on the couch looked up in the same moment.

"Hi, Brooke!" Lily said.

"Hey, Lily, what's up?"

Lucas watched them banter back and forth, smiling. But he was surprised a moment later when Brooke turned to him, looking guilty.

"Lucas, I have to go somewhere," she said.

"Ok, where?"

She bit her lip. "I… I can't tell you, or you'd insist on going with me." She gave him an apologetic look.

"Are you coming back?" asked Lucas. Brooke gave him a cavalier smile, not looking quite so repentant as a second ago.

"Maybe. I'll have to ask my other boyfriends if it's ok. But don't worry Broody, they're non-exclusive." She winked.

"But I'm the best kisser, right?" Lucas teased. "That's why you spend the nights with me." Brooke rolled her eyes and groaned as she walked away down the hall. Lucas's cocky laughter followed her, and she had to conceal a smile. "See you soon, pretty girl."

He looked back down at Lily. "Well, it seems we are alone again. What do you want to watch?"

"Lucas, what's sex? Like Uncle Dan was talking about?"

_Uh-oh. Too much innocence._

* * *

Peyton had been in the car now for 45 minutes, trying to make the 20 minute drive to the airport, but the traffic seemed determined to stop her from reaching her destination. Cars were backed up for over a mile, all jockeying for the exit to the arrival gates. Usually she wouldn't have minded such a situation; stop and go driving was the perfect time to kick back and listen to a new CD in complete solitude. Then again, she usually didn't have somewhere to be. The stress was getting to her.

Today was Psycho Ian day. She would've had no problem being late, as long as it was on her terms. As it was now, the longer it took to get to the airport the more opportunity there was for second thoughts. But Peyton was determined to be there to see Ian for what she knew was the last time.

She checked her cell phone impatiently. Mia was supposed to call soon, with some new information on the mystery artist that she had met on her tour in the South. But still, she hadn't called. _Maybe he had left_, Peyton thought to herself, then shrugged. _Whatever_.

Popping in a random disc from the mess in her backseat, Peyton leaned back and rolled her eyes as she saw yet another station wagon-family pass her. As the opening bars of Hands Down came on, her eyes scanned over the hundreds of bumper stickers plastered over the back of the car: "Soccer Mom, get out of the way!" "Support our troops," and even, "I'd rather be playing chess."

She just rolled her eyes again and turned up the music.

This song had always been one of her favorites; God, it brought back memories. One in particular stood out, and she supposed it was the reason she loved it so much.

_She had been cruising down the road, way too fast for her own good, but she liked to feel the danger. It was another one of those nights, a game night, and Nathan was out somewhere with the team. Even being alone tonight couldn't bring down the mood she was in; they had won, Dashboard Confessional was blaring out of the radio, and she was almost home to relax._

_That was when her headlights lit upon the form in the crosswalk, the grey sweatshirt, the basketball, the headphones making him oblivious to her approach. Instinctually, Peyton slammed on the brakes and buried her head in her shoulder, hoping, praying. When she didn't hear any yell, any body hitting the windshield, she tentatively looked up to see the ocean-blue eyes of Lucas Scott, confused under the messy blonde hair. They connected for that brief moment, then Peyton let her shoulders slump and the characteristic glare grace her face. She waved him out of the way angrily._

_And that had been the first real look that they had exchanged, even through middle school and half of high school. The first time when she felt some strange stirring within herself._

"So much for love's first look," Peyton said to herself, clicking off the music irritably and turning into the airport. "Stupid song."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Peyton had finally made it through the endlessly milling crowd waiting in the terminal. Settling herself into a seat that had a good view of the entrance to the tarmac, as well as the tarmac itself, she contented herself with people-watching for a few minutes. She had been trying to see Derek or the plane that would announce his arrival, but there was a huge crowd of people outside, so she gave up and focused on the tiled floor of the airport.

It seemed she had only just sat down when she heard someone walk up and stop directly in front of her. The steps had sounded uneasy, like the person was still unsure if they wanted o be here. Peyton looked up absently, but caught her breath at who she saw.

* * *

Debonair and sophisticated in the light summer suit and cocktail in his hand, he seemed utterly out of place in the dim lights of his living room. A man that looked like him should be out on a terrace somewhere, relaxing and enjoying drinks with other people of the upper class, not sitting in a worn armchair with a telephone and phone book. Yet there was something faintly sinister about the whole picture, maybe the underlying hint of danger that human instincts could barely pick up. Anyone would have kept they're distance from this man, whether they know him or not.

But he was alone, and he preferred it this way. Dan Scott picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Hi, this is Dan Scott. I have a little business proposition for one of Tree Hill's most esteemed ex-residents…I understand that you've been let go of a certain Clothes/Bros down here…Oh, come on now, don't sound so bitter. This could be good for you, and it would certainly offer a chance for…retribution… Yeah, I knew you'd be interested… Of course I'll call you Victoria."

* * *

"C'mon Nate, you ain't got nothing!" Q said, grinning arrogantly. He gave Nathan a little shove in the back, waiting for Nate to make his move.

Nathan smiled, and before Q even realized what happened, Nathan stepped forward, feinted left, then right, put the ball through Quentin's legs and drove to the basket. The dunk was tossed in mechanically, just a natural move for him that was the pinnacle of athletic prowess. Nathan came down, landing cat-like on the balls of his feet, grinning. He looked back at Q, who was still standing flat-footed at the top of the key. It had all happened in less than two seconds.

"Game. Too fast for you, Q?"

It was near two o'clock now, and the two guys had been playing since ten out on the Rivercourt. Both were shining in sweat, and Nathan was shirtless. "Wanna go another one?" Q put his hands on his knees, challenging.

Nathan grabbed the ball and bent down as well. "Your ball—" Just then his phone blared out from the picnic table. "Hold that thought," he said, jogging over. Usually the only person who called him at this time of day was Haley, unless there was something important that Skills or Luke needed to tell him.

Nathan checked the caller id and put the phone to his ear. "Hi, Hales." In the background, Q started to shoot.

"Damn, she got you on a short leash. You're whipped."

"_And what's wrong with that?" _Nathan mouthed, smirking, and Q laughed.

But on the phone, Haley's voice was anything but casual. "Nate, the doctor just called. They have an opening, and they want to get Jamie tested now." She didn't need to tell him what for. "Can you meet us down there?" She sounded anxious, but Nathan could tell Haley was trying to keep cool for his sake.

"Yeah, Haley, I'll be right there. Hey, everything will be alright, ok? Promise me you won't freak out?"

"Yeah, yeah," she agreed vaguely, and hung up the phone.

"Sorry, Q, I gotta go," Nathan said, grabbing his bag and keys. He jumped in the car as quickly as possible.

"Hey, what's the matter, is J. Scott alright?"

"I hope so."

* * *

The waiting room. What a stupid name. It should be called the 'on the edge of your seat because you are worried for your child's health' room. But Nathan figured that wouldn't fit on the sign.

He paced nervously across the bright carpet, carefully avoiding toy cars as well as the looks from annoyed middle aged women. But he didn't care. The only thought that filled his mind was that his only son was in there right now, taking a test to see whether or not he would be in danger for the rest of his life.

It was about five minutes ago that Nathan had started watching the clock. _Where are they? _It seemed like Jamie and Haley had been in there forever, like they had gone in hours ago. He went to the receptionists desk and was about to ask her if he could go into the office to find his wife and son when the door opened.

"Hi Daddy, look at my sticker!" Jamie said, skipping out happily, while Haley followed close behind. A surprising amount of stress rolled off Nathan's shoulders at the sight of them both.

"Hey Jimmy-jam, how was it?"

"It was fun. The doctor was funny. What did you do?"

"I—"

"Paced incessantly, short of breath, and nearly had a heart attack," the receptionist said without missing a beat and keeping her eyes level on the computer screen. Haley turned to a betrayed looking Nathan.

"What happened to 'everything will be ok, Haley, I swear'?" she teased. Nathan smiled sarcastically back as they escaped the migraine-inducing room.

"So, what will happen with everything?" Nathan asked Haley as they went into the parking lot. "What did the doctors say?"

Haley shrugged. "Just like earlier: Take the test and they mail the results to you in a couple of days." She had kept up a façade of strength all day, but Nathan knew it wouldn't last. He just had to be there when that wall fell, there to support her. In truth, he could barely support himself right now, knowing that his son, his perfect Jamie, could be followed by the ever-looming threat of HCM wherever he went. Jamie would never be able to play basketball, not even run around in his young years. Nathan tried to put the thought to the back of his mind, where his body wouldn't be able to access it.

He failed.

* * *

Looking almost as uncomfortable as Peyton felt, Brooke nervously met Peyton's gaze.

"Hi, Peyt," she said uncertainly, like she didn't feel she deserved to be there.

"What are you doing here?"

Brooke pulled an envelope from her purse, and Peyton was relieved for the break in eye-contact. "I got a letter, from the jail. About Derek, I guess you did too?"

"Yeah." Peyton angled her head around Brooke for another futile search for Derek. Brooke sighed, and Peyton knew what was going to come out of her mouth before she said it.

"Look, Peyton, I know that there is a lot going on right now, between us, with Luke," Peyton wrinkled her nose at the name, but Brooke continued unfazed, "With everything. But that is all outside of this airport. While we're in here, we're going to face Derek, together. We need each other to see him."

A long pause, and then Peyton nodded. "Ok," she said steadily. Brooke smiled at their paper-thin truce, and sat down. With the absence of anger and malice, there was a nothingness between them, a void each was unsure how to fill. Happiness would seem too contrived, and it wasn't the time for apologies.

The intercom came on. _"Flight 23 will be delayed, followed by flight 616."_

Peyton checked the letter. "That's him. 616."

"If that's the case," Brooke said, standing up, "Then I'm going to get some food. I'll be back before Derek gets here."

With Brooke's absence came those terrible second thoughts, and Peyton froze. It would be so easy to duck out of here now, to not have to see him again. Then he would die, she would ask not to be informed, and she would never see him again. So why was she still here?

"Who are you waiting for?" It was an old woman, her face leathery with age and her voice rough and gravelly. She sat next to Peyton with her head buried in a newspaper. The question came unexpectedly, and Peyton had to think for a moment before answering.

"A ghost from my past," she decided, not wanting to spill her life story to some old bat in an airport.

"Bad memories?" she prompted.

"You… could say that, yeah." Understatement of the year, in fact. "But he's been gone for a while now."

The old woman was silent for a moment. "Could you ever forgive him?"

Peyton shook her head, and she was surprised at how much she was opening up. "No, I don't think I could. He left me scarred, in a way." The old woman nodded in understanding and turned back to her newspaper. Peyton was about to ask her a question when she heard a deep voice from above her.

"Hi, Peyton."

Someone stood there, someone Peyton hadn't thought about in over three years, not since she and Lucas had gotten back together. He had been gone so long, he faded from the forefront of her thoughts. But now he was here, standing, waiting for her. This was the one person she needed right now, the one who could save her.

And Peyton couldn't have been happier.

* * *

**Cliff hanger! Lol, if you wanna guess, go right ahead.**

**So the usual: The next part will be up soon, I hope you liked it, leave a review, same old same old :) You know.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hello again, finally I know. THis chapter goes out to Dani over on the CW/OTH boards, who helped me with a certain part in here that I was struggling with. Thanks Dani! Also, everyone needs to head over there and read a fanfic of hers, entitiled "A Fanfic - Brucas: Season 6..." by othfanargentina, if you need some more BL hope and love!!**

**Anyways, here is the chapter, read, enjoy, ignore the huge gaps between my UDs, and most of all review! Please! :)**

* * *

Standing on the cheap tiling of the airport, he looked ridiculously out of place. A small bag was slung over one broad shoulder, and a bright smile was etched over his hard features. It looked strange on him, like the muscles weren't used to working like this.

He wore the same clothes Peyton had seen him in last; it was as if he had been frozen in time when he left her that night, and he was only coming back into existence now. He looked exactly the same as she remembered him. The long, white, perfectly creased dress pants. The dark blue jacket with red trim: It was cropped close to his torso, the slim fit betraying the muscled chest and ox-like strength that she knew was there. Polished buttons matched the buttons and badges and medals that adorned his shoulder area, and the white marines cap was tucked carefully under one arm. Save for the airport backdrop and the smile on his face, it was like a poster for recruiting.

"Derek," she breathed, and he chuckled.

Peyton couldn't even find the strength to get out of her chair. Derek Somers, the real Derek, her Derek, her… brother—it still felt strange to say the word— was here, standing five feet away, watching, waiting for her. The silence stretched between them despite the noisy atmosphere.

"I'm surprised you even remember my name: I don't get a single letter while I'm away, and now you sit there dumbstruck?" he laughed, and it was like a dam breaking. Her whole body relaxed, and Peyton was able to laugh uneasily as she stood and accepted his hug.

"What are you doing here?" she managed to say past the surprise and uncertainty.

"I had to make sure my little sister was alright," Derek said, pulling back to look at her. Peyton was still utterly bewildered. He laughed again.

"Well, it certainly _seems_ like you can forgive him," muttered the old woman from behind them. But Peyton ignored her, and the lady shuffled off.

Peyton looked towards the tarmac once more, suddenly understanding Derek's sudden appearance. A line of men and women in official dress that matched Derek's marched down the stairs from the jet, and she watched the crowd applaud and cheer.

Behind her, Derek sat down. "I—"

They were interrupted by a sudden clattering of heels across the floor, and Peyton turned just in time to see Brooke rushing up to her, and excited look on her face.

"P. Sawyer! You'll never guess who I just saw!" She exclaimed excitedly as she caught her breath and looked around. "It was your brother Der—" her eyes alighted on Derek, and Brooke's face fell "—Derek …Oh. Ok then."

She looked disappointed that she hadn't been the one to tell Peyton.

"Brooke, right?" Derek said, nodding at her, "Nice to finally meet you. We obviously kinda know each other, even though we never met officially. Back then you and Peyton were at each other's throats."

Brooke's eyes flew uneasily to Peyton, whose jaw was set angrily. Her stony green eyes were fixed forward, not hearing Brooke or her half-brother. All three were silent.

"_Flight 616 arriving now. Please standby for disembarking."_

The spell broke. Peyton's angry face melted away instantly and she looked at Brooke, showing fear for just a moment. Brooke knew she wore the same expression on her own face. _That's him, _their eyes agreed.

Derek sat down behind them, ignorant to the tension in the air. He settled into his chair, saying something about resting for a moment. The girls, who were still standing, ignored him.

Brooke and Peyton drew closer, emotionally using one another as a crutch. They stood shoulder to shoulder, perfectly still, facing the spot that they would see Ian first, grasping hands without even thinking. They were in high school again, fighting against him, together, like that day in the jail. Simultaneously, they took a steeling breath; all grudges forgotten in this pivotal moment. Derek, who had picked up on something, was about to ask when he came around the corner.

Jail had toughened Ian Banks: he was no longer the light, college looking guy that they had known years ago. His face was older, tougher, scarred like a bar fighter's. His eyes were sunken and sullen, and his blonde hair hung limply over his brow. Ian wore an expression of upmost contempt for the guards who flanked him on either side.

He walked slowly towards the two, and the guards followed at a distance. Peyton and Brooke waited on baited breath as he grew closer. Then suddenly, before the two girls even knew that he was close, they found themselves face to face with the subjects of nightmares for weeks after he was gone. Ian gave them a dark, yet unreadable look. But even with all of the changes, the scars and the aging, Ian still strode up to them with an air of confidence and an icy demeanor.

"Well, look who it is: the bitches who put me in jail the first time and even indirectly caused my eventual death." He spoke casually, but his fixed stare betrayed a much deeper hidden resentment. He lightly motioned the guards, who stood several yards behind him, to look at the two girls. "They actually showed up! Huh."

Peyton bristled. "We only came because it was your dying request. Because this is closure, forever."

"And we're glad your dying," Brooke supported, "Because then there'll be one less creep in the world."

His teeth ground together, and a vein pulsed in Ian's temple. His eye's narrowed, and a small smile played on his lips. "That's pretty strong. Pretty…_passionate,_ if you ask me. Is that it, Peyton, passion?"

Peyton just stared, not able to think, to react.

"Did you miss me, Peyton? Because I missed you."

It was the one thing that hadn't changed over the years; Ian's voice. It changed now from the loud, uncaring tone, became the low, velvety smooth sound from years ago. His words flowed eloquently and quietly, each dripping with poisoned honey.

Peyton reeled. Why the hell had she decided to come here. Such a stupid idea, a horrible idea. Even with Brooke by her side, with her long lost brother sitting just behind her, even in an airport full of people, Peyton had never felt more alone and vulnerable. He was starting to bring back memories, the voice more than anything. She had answered the door, smoothing out her long white dress and golden curls, expecting to see Lucas on the porch. Instead, _he _turned around, the expression on his face one of upmost triumph and cunning. And that started it all.

Peyton took and unconscious step backwards, and even felt Brooke jump.

Behind them, Derek had finally gripped what was happening. More importantly, just as he stood up, he saw Peyton step back away from the blonde guy (Derek didn't know his name, but he remembered him). Stepping forward, he stood protectively behind Peyton.

She felt his presence behind her the same time Ian looked over Peyton's shoulder. "Hey, you're the guy who pushed me out of that window last time, right?" His cordial mannerism had returned, save for the shadow over his face. "What's up?"

"I dare you to try and touch her," murmured Derek, unfazed. "Either of them. You won't even make it to the hospital."

Ian cocked his head slightly, returning his gaze to Peyton. "He sounds jealous, that's what it is. Jealous of what we have…" Ian smiled.

It wasn't the same as last time, Ian's sadistic manner. It was like an echo from four years ago, a shadow of what had happened. Ian was a ghost of his old self, and it was as if he was just acting, replaying recordings. Like he knew how he should _act, _rather than be natural. Brooke couldn't put her finger on the difference, but it wasn't exactly forefront in her mind at the moment.

Just then, Derek stepped between Ian and Brooke and Peyton, and the fire ignited in Ian's eyes. For a second, Peyton wasn't sure if Brooke had seen it, but then she felt the brunette tense next to her.

"Peyton, are you…trying to replace me?" he whispered lividly, but Brooke stepped forward, and Ian at last broke his gaze with Peyton. His eyes slid edgily to the brunette. "Looking for another kiss, you slut? You didn't taste nearly as sweet as Peyton, but I suppose I could use you. Just like all other men in your life have."

Under her burgundy top, Brooke's stomach clenched, and a composing exhale came out her nose, but she brushed the insult away with the merest flicker of irritation. "You said… you were over Peyton." Each word came out carefully articulated, her speech controlled.

He shrugged, then refocused in on Peyton. "That doesn't mean that my dear Peyton doesn't deserve a punishment for what she did to me."

"I didn't do anything."

This, above all else, seemed to incense Ian the most. He took on an incredulous, outraged look. "You didn't— you didn't do anything? It's your fault: you led me on! You_ stabbed _me then continued to beat me almost to death, you put me in jail! It's your fault!" he screamed, "Both of you. It's your fault, you little whores. It's your fault that I'm like this today, that the last four years of my life were spent in prison."

"It's not—"

"How does it feel, Peyton, does the guilt hurt? Or do you not feel anything, numb to a man being led to his last place of existence, to die then, cold and alone?" He leaned in, dropping his voice. "That's the worst part, the strongest guilt you should feel of all: _It's your fault I'm dying._"

Derek stepped finally in, intervening. "Hey, can you get him out of here?" he yelled to the guards. Both he and Brooke watched her blank porcelain face concernedly, but Peyton kept her eyes on Ian's angry, accusing face as he continued to shout.

_It was true, what he said,_ she suddenly thought with a jolt._ It was her fault, and… and I don't feel anything. _A man was dying, and even though it was him, she should've felt at least some emotion, some pity or mercy or even hatred towards Ian. But Peyton's mind and body were blank, even to guilt.

And she hated herself for it. Was this really how far she had slipped, to the point where someone's death didn't affect her in the slightest?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ian was led across the terminal to the exit, and the three left after the encounter made themselves deaf to his cries from across the building as he was taken outside.

But Peyton knew what he was saying, his words echoed in her head.

_Your fault, all your fault._

* * *

Peyton watched the metal conveyor belt of the baggage claim go around and around, strangely taking solace in the sameness of it all. Airports were full of people wearing every emotion possible: sadness, joy, apprehension, boredom, excitement. Why try to understand and absorb such dynamic feelings, especially since she felt blank inside, when she could watch something so much simpler and constant and easy? It was relaxing, and she concentrated hard on it while letting her mind wander.

Seeming to take her deliberations for openness, Brooke came over. "You ready to talk about it, Peyt?"

The look on Peyton's face was cool and unruffled as she finally looked at Brooke and shrugged. "Nothing to talk about. He's gone, for good, we're safe, and I'm—I'll live."

"That's good," Brooke said, becoming just as calm as her friend was when she saw that Peyton was alright. After a minute or so of silence, she smiled and turned to the blonde. "Well, you've got big brother Derek here for you now, how's that gonna be?" She smirked, exactly the way they used to tease each other in high school.

It was most likely this that made Peyton realize that Brooke still had Lucas, and they were still against one another, regardless of that lapse in judgment when they had stood together against Derek. As soon as she remembered the past few conversations with Brooke, she closed up once again, and the resentment flowed through her. She instantly became the default P. Sawyer: detached, bored, pissed off and cynical.

"Why are you still here Brooke? You don't need to be, so why don't you go bed down with Luke some more? 'Cause really, he'll need all he can get before he gets into a real relationship again," she said sardonically.

Brooke stood up straight, incredulous. "I was just trying to be here for you—"

"Well," said Peyton, "It's not really helping. Quite frankly, you're just pissing me off. You saw Ian, he's gone, so why don't you just leave me alone now. Like I said before, I'll live." She was past the anger and the snarky remarks and the petty jealousy; there was just so much going on in her tumultuous life right now, and Brooke was the embodiment of everything Peyton didn't want to deal with. Therefore, she was the target.

The two girls were staring daggers at each other when Derek finally turned around with his bag over one shoulder. "Are you guys ready?" he asked uneasily, and it seemed to break the tension.

"Yeah, I'm going to head out now," agreed Brooke, "It's been great, reliving old nightmares," she looked Peyton up and down, "and seeing Ian, but I have to get back to Lucas. He needs as much as he can get, right?"

Peyton remained silent, watching her friend-in-limbo's retreating back. Once she was finally gone, Peyton looked uneasily towards Derek, as if waiting for his appraisal of the entire situation

Derek just looked perceptively at the blonde. "C'mon, let's get out of here," he said simply.

* * *

"That's it Lily, away from pressure to the weak side before you shoot," encouraged Lucas with a little clap. It was nearing one o'clock, and he stood below the basket of their neighbor's house, waiting for Lily to shoot. But instead, the little girl dropped the ball and indignantly planted her hand on one hip.

"Luuuke," she complained, "I don't know what any of that means!"

At once, the coach/player side of Lucas fell away, and the older brother side that took its place made him laugh and smile an apology at her. "I'm sorry. You know how I get carried away." He looked wistfully up at the basket, but the smile never left his face. Fond memories, but without bitterness. "But," he continued seriously, "you're gonna have to learn, because I will not have a sister who doesn't play." The look on his face was purely teasing, and she knew it. Lily burst into fits of giggles as he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and ran back to the house.

Karen and Andy, finally back from breakfast, were sitting in the kitchen when Lily and Lucas came in. Laughing and talking, they hardly noticed Lucas's quiet brooding for the first few minutes as he stood at the counter behind them. He watched them carefully and eventually smiled.

"So, Mom, Andy, how was breakfast… and apparently lunch?"

Karen recognized his teasing tone. "It was good, good…" but before she could say any more, Lily's call for Lucas came from the living room.

"Luke, come here! Look at this!" Lily, infatuated with her older brother, was always trying to get him to watch her latest shows, or to coerce him into buying things from the TV ads. With a good-natured sigh, Lucas gave his mom a look and went to see Lily.

As soon as he was gone, Andy turned to Karen with a strange look on his face. "Is…Lucas alright?"

Karen took a sip of her coffee and nodded. "I think so. Why?"

"Because he keeps giving me weird looks," said Andy, "Giving us weird looks. Like appraising you and me, watching." He gave a sort of laugh, and Karen bit her lip in a smile. She looked over curiously, to meet Lucas's thoughtful blue eyes. He was indeed watching them, but as soon as he saw his mother looking, Lucas turned away quickly as though he had been caught. Karen turned back to Andy and gave him a strange look.

"I don't know," he simply said, reading her mind. They smiled.

A quiet tap on Karen's shoulder interrupted the next thought, and Lucas sidled into the chair across from the pair. The look on his face was different from before. He looked grim.

"Dan came over," said Lucas, jumping right to the point, "He wanted to see Lily."

Just as Lucas had when he walked in the door, the smile vanished from both Karen and Andy's faces. "What happened? How did he get to Lily?"

"She was in the yard, and he came to my door with her." Lucas was very blank, monotone, concealing his angst while he informed them.

Karen covered her mouth in horror. "Oh, Lucas, please tell me you didn't hit him." She seemed to have read his face.

"No, no," he assured her quietly. Andy watched both of them like a tennis match, not offering comment. "Brooke pulled me off before I could do anything."

"Well that's good, at least. But what are we going to do, we—"

Andy cleared his throat slightly. Looking at Karen seriously, he said, "Have you thought about just doing nothing?"

His question was met by silence, so Andy pressed on.

"Look, we know that Dan is conniving: he's been like that in the past and he most likely will in the future. But for now, he hasn't done anything, and it doesn't seem like he will. Do you really think that he would do something like Carrie did with Jamie, especially since he's just out of jail? I don't trust him and never will, but I doubt that Dan would to something like that. And panicking now wouldn't help anything, so I think that the best course of action would be… do nothing. Wait for him, keep Lily close, but there isn't much else we can do."

* * *

Dishes clinked quietly as Lucas and Andy put them away, the only sound in the empty kitchen. Neither of them spoke.

Karen and Lucas had taken Andy's idea of doing nothing with a taciturn acceptance; they were reluctant, but they also saw the wisdom and were unable to come up with anything else. Walking into the living room to say hello a few minutes after Andy's announcement, it was one of the few times the Karen's age really showed.

"So where's Brooke?" Andy asked Lucas, filling the silence. Lucas had just decided that there was nothing going on between his mom and Andy.

Lucas smiled slightly. "I don't know, actually." He put a glass away thoughtfully, wondering where his pretty girl had run off to today.

"Have you taken her out yet?"

"What?" Lucas asked, somewhat confused. The question seemed like a father talking to his fourteen-year-old son, or an older brother teasing a younger sibling. It certainly didn't match the current situation.

"On a date, like to dinner?" Andy asked again.

"Uh…not really," said Lucas, "She comes home and sleeps in my bed, most of her stuff is here; we basically live together, so it sort of defeats the purpose. Plus, life has kinda been getting in the way." They finished the dishes and leaned against the counter to talk.

"Have you ever talked about something like that?" asked Andy, playing the fatherly role quite well. Lucas's stomach jerked, imaging Keith in that role.

"I—" But before he defended himself he stopped and thought. They really had never talked about it. Things just kept getting in the way, or they would be too busy. In senior year they were just happy enough being together to the point where the never needed to go out on a date. "No, we haven't," Lucas decided slowly, "But she would like that. I've never even taken her out to dinner, really."

Andy smiled a half-smile, looking down the hall to Karen and Lily before glancing back at Lucas and patting him on the shoulder. "Then you might want to fix that."

* * *

**FOUR DAYS LATER**

"_Hey you've reached Lucas Scott, I'm not here right now, leave a message."_

"Hi Luke, it's me. Listen, I... there's a bunch of stuff going on at the store right now, so I gotta stay here and I'm spending the night a Rachel's because we have to work on some designs. Just thought I'd check in, if you get this message, call me, ok?" Brooke hung up her phone and tossed it onto the counter, behind which stood Millicent and Rachel. Milli stood at the ready, but Rachel looked coolly unconcerned at Brooke's angst and the tension in the atmosphere. She examined one fingernail.

"So, Brookie, can you just tell me what's going on again?" Rachel leaned onto the counter, waiting for Brooke's plans. Brooke looked extremely flustered as she paced back and forth in front of them.

"Ok, I was on my way over here and I got a call from the board saying that they are concerned about the lack of production from the company, namely me, as well as the Tree Hill store," Brooke said quickly, gesturing around at the desperately empty upscale store for a perfect example. "So, the requested my new line two weeks early."

Rachel shrugged, letting out an uneasy laugh. "So, what's the problem?"

"I…haven't started anything yet. No designs," disclosed Brooke as she nervously braced herself for their reactions. Both Rachel and Millicent slapped hands to their foreheads and groaned hopelessly. "I didn't realize they were going to do this!" Brooke cried, defending herself. "Usually I can whip something up in a few days but I didn't know we were going to have a time crunch!"

Millicent spoke up. "But why do they want it now, all of the sudden?" Both girls watched as Brooke paced and thought up their battle plan. She whirled angrily.

"It was Victoria, I'll bet you. Not only does she still have shares in the company, but she holds influence and cocktail parties with the board. It would be a perfect time for that manipulative bitch to plant the idea of my flaws in their minds. But anyways," Brooke continued as she planted her hands, business-like, back on the counter. "The point is that we need to come up with a sample line in two weeks. Can we do it?"

"Well," Rachel announced, leaning back, "I don't have anything else to do in this empty town. I'm in." This seemed to ease Brooke's worry slightly.

"You sound like Victoria. Milli?"

Millicent seemed more involved than Rachel. "Of course, I'll go get fabrics right now. Just the usual?"

"Yeah, yeah," Brooke said as she heaved a sigh of relief. She wouldn't be alone. Millicent grabbed some money from the register and hurried out the door.

Rachel seemed to have gotten more serious about the situation. "So what's the game plan, captain?" Brooke tied her hair back in a simple bun.

"We're going to design as much as we can, a surplus, then pick from the best. We don't really have an overall theme, but we should style them mostly the same, but what if…" Brooke started to ramble as she paced. "But what if none of them turn out right, or we can't make enough, or we can't think up enough—"

Rachel came around the counter, grabbed Broke by the shoulders, and clapped loudly in her face. She did it quickly enough to stop Brooke dead in her ramblings, frozen. "Hey! Enough! You're going to give me a complex." Rachel took a deep breath, than instructed Brooke in the same. "Just breathe, ok? Work with me here, we'll live. We are just going to sit down, draw out some dresses, listen to your muse or whatever the hell you do to come up with this, ok?" She spoke very slowly as she grabbed the pencils and pad. "It's going to be ok."

* * *

"Ugh! This is NOT ok! Rachel, I can't do this!" Brooke yelled a few hours later, throwing her pencil down onto the third unsuccessful design. She slammed her elbows on the table and ran her hands through her hair. Rachel looked on, casually sipping a smoothie. Millicent had gone on another fabric run.

"Yeah, it seems like your muse has abandoned you," observed Rachel sagely. Brooke gave her a death glare from under one arm. "But really, that's all it is, a lack of inspiration. I'm sure when Millicent gets back with the latest fabrics then you can see them and just start drawing while I get another drink. Sound like a plan?"

Brooke was about to impale her friend with the dull pencil when her cell phone rang out noisily from the counter. Crossing the room in three strides to check the ID, she told Rachel, "He just saved your skinny ass, you know that?" Rachel stuck her tongue out while Brooke answered.

"Hi," She moaned tiredly. Obviously the stress was getting to her.

"Hey," came Lucas's voice over the line. She smiled, taking solace in the familiar sound that always seemed to make her problems go away. Brooke remembered a few days ago when she had returned from the airport, tired and irritated, back to Lucas's house.

_FB:_

"_Hey-hey, Cheery's back," Lucas teased, standing up from the couch when Brooke moped in the door. He had seen the irritable look in her eyes the second she walked in, and he tried to lighten the mood for her. "How was the airport?"_

_She obviously wasn't in the mood for it, judging by the roll of her eyes and her grunt that told him to sit back down with her. Brooke fell onto the couch, resting herself on his shoulder as Lucas flipped between basketball games on the TV._

"_Wow, your other boyfriends were that bad, were they?" Lucas mused quietly, shaking his head disapprovingly as if he was saying it to himself. This time, Brooke smiled, but still hit him in the chest._

"_Truth be told," she said, "The airport sucked. But I don't wanna talk about it, ok?" He didn't push the matter, because it at least seemed like she had cheered up slightly._

Talking to him now, it seemed like once again she wasn't stressed and Brooke actually sat back in her chair, relaxing. Rachel came over, sitting across from Brooke to listen.

"I got your message," Lucas continued, "And I was just wondering if I was going to see you tonight. No other dates?"

Brooke, playing along, shuffled some papers. "Nope, it doesn't look like I've got anyone lined up for tonight." Rachel rolled her eyes, but Brooke laughed.

"Well, what about that handsome guy across the street?" Lucas asked curiously. "Outside your store."

Brooke took the phone away from her ear, pressing it against her shoulder while she cocked her head, confused, at Rachel. _What? _The brunette mouthed. Rachel shrugged, and they both got up in unison and went to the front of the store to look out the window.

Lucas leaned against a lightpole across the street, the phone pressed against his ear, waving with a look of upmost smugness plastered across his face. He seemed to delight in conning them. Rachel shook her head. "Damn, that boy is cheesy," she murmured, moving her lips very slightly and in a disapproving way.

"Yes, but he's mine," Brooke shot back quietly before putting the phone up to her ear to continue to talk to him. "There was that one, but he is way too haughty for my taste."

"Yeah, I've never liked those ones. Stay well away from him, seems like the kinda guy you'd fall for."

Lucas clicked off the phone before she could answer, and even from inside both Brooke and Rachel could see his swagger, although it was as if he was putting it on for them. His deep blue collared shirt hung loosely from his torso over his dark jeans, and his scruffy blonde hair stood out at all angles. He looked alluringly unkempt. The only difference between him and a Manhattan male model was the broad grin on his face as he loped casually across the street and walked into the store.

"And we couldn't let that happen, could we?" asked Lucas, teasingly continuing his conversation from before with Brooke as he embraced her and pecked her quickly on the lips. She echoed Rachel in the eye-rolling this time, scoffing and returning to the counter to face him.

Rachel followed close behind, and when Brooke turned, the red head whispered into her ear. "Well, there's some inspiration if I ever saw some. Just try to keep the moaning down, ok?" With a mocking raise of her eyebrow, she slapped Brooke on the ass and disappeared into the back. Brooke turned back to Lucas with an incredulous look, laughing at Rachel but in no way surprised.

Watching her as she started to bustle around again, Lucas had to laugh as well; Brooke stood there in a pair of vibrant red dolphin shorts and a black top, looking like she should just be getting ready for a party with friends, not frantically trying to design something to remain in control of her multi-million dollar company. Brooke was always rushing along; she was even now, rearranging papers and old portfolios and bolts of fabric. A brunette lock had managed to escape her bun, and Brooke looked just so flustered that Lucas felt it necessary to go over to her.

"Now," he said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his head on her shoulder, "how're you doing? How are the drawings going?" He held her tight to make sure she couldn't go anywhere, and after a second she stopped struggling. As expected, her shoulders slumped.

"Ugh, not good. Its only been a few hours, but there's this stuff with my vampire mom and the board and my complete inability to create something that looks half decent—" Brooke took a deep breath, and Lucas had to stifle a smile.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No," said Brooke dejectedly. She gave him a half-smile.

But Lucas was determined to make it better. Picking her up and setting Brooke's slender body down on the counter so that she was slightly about his eye-level, Lucas leaned in closer to her face. "Well, how about I take you out to dinner tomorrow night? Since I'm not going to see you tonight or tomorrow, it'll be fun. Sound good?"

In just a few short weeks, Lucas had once again regained his skill in reading Brooke Davis most of the time. Granted, there were still so many things about her that intrigued him, but now he could imagine her reactions to things, know what she was thinking seventy-five percent of the time. Using this, he could imagine her immediate surprised reaction to their date, followed immediately by a cheery smile, which in turn would be instantly covered by a poor impression of aloofness. He was not surprised when she exhibited each of these feelings with the exact timing he had imagined.

"Sure, it sounds good, I guess," said Brooke, shrugging. But even under this proud exterior, the secret grin and the overall energy that pervaded Brooke now did not escape him. He could only smile as she promised to meet him at eight the next night, setting their date.

"What? What are you smiling at?" Brooke was indignant, planting a hand on her hip, squirming on the counter in front of Lucas. He just shook his head.

"Nothing, nothing." He gave her a quick peck on the lips before gathering himself to leave. "I gotta go pick up my HCM medicine now, I'm already late as is. Are you going to survive the next twenty four hours without me?" Lucas gestured around the shop, lit from the late afternoon sun.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Now get your cocky, handsome ass out of here, I have to focus."

An arm caught him before he was twenty yards from the store. Expecting Brooke, Lucas turned around and was surprised to see Rachel standing in front of him, looking dangerous.

"I have to talk to you for a second," said the redhead, and dove into her speech before Lucas could say anything. "Ok, I don't really trust you. You're cool and all, but I still don't trust you. For some reason, Brooke does, but that is outside my control. The point is—"

"What are you getting at Rachel?" Lucas asked, and it was more a polite request than question. He knew the general idea of where the conversation was going.

"My point being that you'd better not screw this up. Most of us believe you, but we're still shrewd about it. Just remember, if you screw this one up, you'll have a hunting party out for you: Me, Haley, Millicent, most likely Peyton, because even if she's mad at Brooke she'd still be there for her, hell if we can get Brooke drunk enough she'll come too. Just watch out, ok?"

Lucas had been accepting her accusations calmly, knowing that there was reason behind them. Still though, he felt the need to impress on her the importance of Brooke to him.

"Listen, Rachel, I know what I've done. But the reason it ended between me and Brooke was a series of miscommunications, misunderstandings, mistakes—"

"And a Miss Peyton Sawyer, right?" Rachel's arms were folded across her chest, and the look on her face was icy even the heat outside.

Lucas bit the inside of his cheek, but didn't counter her blow. He just said, "I was happy with Peyton and Lindsey and all the other girls I dated. But being with Brooke makes me feel different, alive, vibrant. I'm not going to lose that over a stupid mistake. After she came back to Tree Hill with Peyton, whenever I saw her with some guy, Owen or anyone else, I would get so jealous. Of course I didn't directly, consciously realize it at the time, but I burned at the thought of someone else touching my pretty girl. I would never let that happen again, if for my own selfish reasons at the very least. If you're satisfied with that, then we're good. But if you're not, I'm not going to sit out here and tell you every single reason I need Brooke in my life, because I don't even know them all. So will you trust me with her?"

* * *

**There you go! Again, check out the fanfic mentioned above, and leave me some reviews!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Back again! Lol here is the next UD. I"m not even going to mention the time thing anymore, because I feel guilty. Anyways, this chapter gets a little... heavy, shall I say, toes the "M-rated" line at one point. But it is very general, and not nearly as graphic as some of the M rated fics, so I think ti should be ok. Just a warning, even though it isn't that bad. It's like what the show would show. So yeah, review when your done please!**

* * *

The ball beat rhythmically on the cracked asphalt of their beloved court, keeping measure for the symphony of their heavy breaths. Once, twice, three times he pushed the ball down to have it return to him; he stood still, keeping in the same spot, making sure his opponents were rooted to the ground. Then, faster then they could react, he barreled past them and took the rock to the basket.

Nathan's shot floated lightly through the net, an easy layup with Skills yards behind him and Lucas guarding Q across the key.

"Oohh," Q taunted Lucas after Nathan sunk it. "Don't you just playing till three after morning practice. You feeling it yet, Coach Scott?"

Lucas put his head down, hands on his knees as he panted. "Yeah, but I'd be feeling it less if Skills would step up and play some defense." He nodded at Skills, to let him know that he was just kidding.

It was just past three-thirty; the sun blazed down on them and cast blinding rays off the river. Q, Skills, Nathan and Lucas had jogged down to the Rivercourt after morning practice had ended three hours ago, and had been playing ever since. Right now, Q and Nathan were dominating, but the strain showed on all four: Nathan and Quentin had already taken their shirts off and sweat glistened over their torsos and their red faces, and Skills and Lucas merely played defense, too tired to take the ball on attack.

Nathan caught the ball as it came down. "That's destiny, man." He tossed the ball to Lucas. "Loser take out."

"Destiny?" challenged Luke. "This is destiny." He shot the ball for a perfect three, ripping up a twenty-five footer. Q didn't even have a chance.

Gravel crunching under tires interrupted their taunting. "Mrs. Scott and J. Luke," Q unnecessarily announced as Jamie and Haley climbed out of the car. They waved, then sat down on the picnic bench to watch.

A wide smile spread over Nathan's face as he watched them. Lucas seized the opportunity to take the ball from him, dribbled once and threw it to Skills for a basket. "Game," Skills called.

"And it seems the old school Rivercourt boys take it again," Haley said, sticking her tongue out at Nathan, who had chased unimpressively after realizing what had happened. All four laughed. "Nathan, I'm embarrassed for you."

"Hey!" Skills, Lucas and Nathan all said at once. Then Skills rolled his eyes and threw the ball to Q. Lucas jogged over while the other guys shot. He was panting hard.

"What's up, Luke, not up for another game?" Nate asked, but it wasn't mockingly; Nathan just sounded bored.

Lucas shook his head, grimacing. "Nah, I'm done for today." Looking to Haley, he said, "So, what brings you to our world over here?"

She shrugged. "Just wanted to see what's up, Jamie wanted to see all of you. But what happened to morning practice?"

"Well," he said, gesturing around, "Morning practice still happened. It's just, you see, after morning, there comes this thing called afternoon. It's kind of like the thing I explained with summer and fall." He stopped short, laughing, as Haley hit him. Lucas seemed to have caught his breath now, and the grimace of pain was gone. He sat, relieved, on the bench with her. "No, it wasn't too bad," he added seriously, "We ended then just jogged down here."

Jamie ran towards the court, immediately taking the ball Q handed him. Haley watched, then said, "So how is the team doing?" She nodded at Q.

"Well we made postseason, if that means anything."

Haley leaned forward. "Luke, that's great!"

"We scraped through, barely. We made it by one league point, Hales," said Lucas. His voice had a touch of bitterness and he sounded anxious. "I don't know if it'll even be worth it, 'cause there's the distinct possibility, or probability, that we'll be done within one game."

"You'll do fine," Haley said confidently, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back to watch them shoot.

Lucas snorted. "This coming from the girl who had no idea who The Bobcats were and thought that you get extra points for the difficulty of shots." But he had no trace of bitterness anymore; Lucas was just teasing her again. She gave him a look, and he relented. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressing with the playoffs and my mom and sister and Dan—"

Jamie interrupted form the blacktop. "Momma! Can I stay with Uncle Skills tonight?" He sat up high on Nathan's shoulders. Haley looked at Skills. He shrugged.

"It's alright with me. The guys have been missing the kid."

Haley laughed and rolled her eyes. "Ok, it's fine with me. But no staying up late, and no girls!"

"Fine," both Jamie and Skills sighed in harmony.

Q came over and grabbed his bag. Skills and Nathan followed, finished with their game. "Hi, Mrs. Scott," Quentin said. "I'm finishing up that report on Les Miserables, be done in a few days, ok?"

"You better," said Haley, quickly adopting that teacher voice that Brooke teased her about. Quentin nodded, and Haley, rising, looked at Nathan. "Are you coming home with me, or going back to the school?"

Looking at Skills and Jamie, who stood there also, Nathan said, "I actually have to head back over to the school, we have some stuff to do real quick. But I'll be home by six, ok?"

Haley opened her mouth in a mock incredulous glare. "Are all my boys leaving me today? Jamie with Skills, Nathan to basketball, Lucas on a date… Which still sounds weird, by the way." Lucas had told her earlier.

"Hold up, hold up: Someone actually wants to date Lucas Scott?" Quentin exclaimed, holding his hands up for attention.

Lucas turned his head away from the jibe, laughing. He had expected as much. "Which reminds me, I gotta go get ready for that." He moved off towards his car, his back to the catcalls that were coming after her, cracks still coming from Skills, Q and Nathan. Even Jamie got one in, while Haley's laughter laid the background.

After Lucas was gone, the others moved off, walking as a group to their respective cars. "So, are you really going to be ok without me for day, Haley?" Nathan smirked as they walked towards the street and Haley's car. Skills was to drive Nathan back to the school, drop him off, then Nathan would run home when he was done. "I know I can be pretty sexy, but try not to miss me too much."

"Oh, believe me, it won't be a problem. I've actually got some music to work on, so I might call Chris Keller," she shot back over her shoulder with an angelic wave. Skills and Nathan stopped in their tracks.

"Damn, that was a low blow," Skills said seriously, shaking his head. Nathan just bit the inside of his cheek and gave a small, demure laugh that was mainly devoid of humor.

"See you at six," Haley said sweetly out the window as she drove past them. She blew a kiss to Jamie.

"That girl is too crafty for her own good," Nathan said with a snort of disbelief.

* * *

"So, ever since then, I've stayed alone at Brooke's house," Peyton said, shrugging. "Brooke is living with Lucas and Karen, and we haven't had a chance to talk about anything, so I've just stayed there."

Carefully scraping the last bits of his sundae out of the cup, Derek thought for a while before responding. "But why won't you two talk? I get that you're both mad over Lucas, but doesn't what you and Brooke have transcend this triangle thing?"

Peyton shrugged again and put her hands into her pockets. Coming out to the Riverwalk today had been a good idea; it was warm out, there were people around, and she and Derek could really talk without having the awkwardness of being the only two in the room. "That's the point: It sounds like it should, but it doesn't. Lucas means so much to me and Brooke, and sometimes we put our relationships with him before our friendship. It's not a conscious thing, it just happens."

"Are you sure it's not a conscious thing?"

Peyton stopped short. "Who are you, Doctor Phil?"

Derek laughed. "Hey, sorry. I just feel like I have to play the role of the older brother: wise, protective, advising, you know. Textbook."

"Gotcha," Peyton nodded, "But I can figure it out myself."

"I've missed out on two decades worth of it, so don't expect the advice to stop anytime soon."

"Sounds good," Peyton replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. They continued their wanderings down the promenade in silence.

"Can I ask you something?" she spoke up again a few minutes later.

"That depends on what it is."

"When are you leaving? I know you are, because every time I've asked you this past week you've changed the subject." She said it almost anxiously, "I don't want you too, but it's ok; I just want to know."

He rolled his shoulders back, sighing. Derek looked skyward for a moment. "A few days, at the most. I reenlisted, so they gave me a few weeks, and there are some places I need to go before I leave again. I stopped by here to see how you were, and the last few days have been great, but I'm going to have to leave sometime."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but gathered herself again quickly. "Ok." She knew he was leaving, knew he would leave, so it didn't take the toll on her that it did four years ago. But still, it had felt good having someone to talk to, someone with that protective side, and even if she did roll her eyes at most of his advice anyways, she secretly appreciated it. "Where are you going?"

"My adoptive parents, for a bit. Then a few other places that hold some meaning, and I ship out." He nodded, almost accepting the fact like Peyton was. "But, since you got to ask me something, can I ask you something? And you have to be completely honest, like I was."

Peyton shrugged. "That's fine."

Derek gave her an appraising look. "Was there ever anyone besides Lucas?"

* * *

She hit the pad with a resounding finality. "And that's that!" Brooke Davis said with satisfaction as she beheld her design.

Again, the boutique seemed lonely when it was empty, holding only Brooke, Rachel and Millicent. Rachel leaned against the counter, examining her fingernails carelessly. Brooke's delight barely fazed her. "So, we're done?"

Brooke put down the drawing a turned in her seat to face Rachel. "With the designs, yes, dresses and other clothes? No."

"But we've finished laying the groundwork. Now all we have to do is make a couple of things, and we get to keep the store, you get to keep your company, and I get to keep my job."

"Yep," Millicent nodded as she counted out the money in the cash register from today. The atmosphere was so relaxed that the animosity that she had towards Rachel seemed to have been tempered down. Now it was just a cool indifference. "And, with inventory taken, I say we're officially done for today! I'll lock this in the back."

Rachel walked forward to see Brooke's designs as Milli disappeared. "So, lack of inspiration definitely wasn't a problem, was it?" asked the redhead as Brooke wordlessly flipped the pages to showcase her different drawings.

"Yeah, yeah," she said absently. For a second, Brooke was lost in space, but she refocused before Rachel could say anything. "Yesterday helped."

In the back, Millicent grabbed her cell phone from her purse and flipped it open. Noticing that it was past four, she yelled to Brooke."Brooke! Isn't there something you should be preparing for?"

It seemed to be the same razzing Lucas had received at the River. Rachel smirked a devious grin, adding, "And, don't forget your lingerie! Or, do; I don't think Lucas will care either way. It'll turn him on at first, but then it'll just get in the way." She shrugged, in a kind of "What are you going to do about it, Brooke?" way. Brooke bit the side of her tongue, but said nothing as she put away the drafts.

"Hey, Milli, can you lock up? In true B. Davis fashion, I am running late, so I'm gonna bail out of here. What are you girls doing tonight?"

Millicent came out of the back room, nodding. "No problem. As for tonight, I'm curling up with some cookie dough ice cream and watching Saturday Night Live." She caught the keys from Brooke as the brunette headed for the door.

"Rachel?"

"I don't know. I'll probably go to that new bar that opened up." She shrugged noncommittally.

Brooke put on hand on the door. "Just don't get too drunk, whore, because as you so eloquently pointed out, I'll be…busy. Bye, you two." She headed out the door as laughs at her 'plans' echoed behind her. She had a distinct smirk on her face.

* * *

The subtle peace between Rachel and Millicent had faded almost as soon as Brooke left: it was as if she had taken the warm atmosphere with her, plunging the girls left behind back into their icy contention. Rachel didn't feel it at first. She continued to gather up her things, while Millicent waited by the door. Only at the brunette's angry sigh did Rachel look up to meet Milli's glare. Guilt pulled the smile off her face.

"Ready yet?" she asked impatiently, the keys held in her hand. Rachel nodded blankly and they left the store.

Outside, Millicent left without a word. _Well, there you go Brooke, I'm going to the bars tonight, _Rachel thought to herself as she watched the little car turn around the corner. Rachel walked slowly down the street, letting the sun warm her. It was relatively quiet until she heard a familiar voice.

"Man, you want _another_ ice cream?"

Skills Taylor and Jamie Scott came around the corner in front of her, Jamie with an earnest look on his face and Skills with an incredulous one. "Yes Uncle Skills, please?"

Rachel had to laugh as they came closer. "Uncle Skills?" She asked, prompting them to look up and notice her. Skills grinned and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, it's what he uses whenever he wants to get things outta me, and sadly, it works." Then he saw Rachel's reproachful look, and held up his hands in surrender. "Well, look at him! How can I say no to that?"

Laughing, she dropped her derision and looked at Skills' charge. "You're Jamie, right? Brooke talks about you a lot."

The four year-old nodded, saying, "Yeah, I'm on team Brooke. Is she your friend?" Rachel nodded as well.

Bending down to his eye level, she held out a five-dollar bill. "Here. You can buy yourself an ice cream on Rachel, and if your mom says anything, tell her to talk to me, ok?" Jamie grinned for the first time and put the bill in hi pocket. Straightening up, she looked to Skills. "So what brings you downtown?" The three started walking together.

"I was just coming down here to see Millicent. Mouth's been kinda a downer lately, I wanted to see if I could talk to her and talk some sense into her." He gave the red-head a pointed look, and she sighed, defeated.

"I really screwed that one up, huh?"

For once, Skills was tender in his reply, but it still was honest. "Yeah, you did," he said somberly, "You had your shot, and you gotta remember that it's Mouth and Millicent now, and that ain't gonna change unless _they _change it. They just seem like they're meant to be." He looked forward sagely, taking slow steps to match hers.

"But it wasn't like I meant to: I just needed to feel safe, and I remembered feeling safe with Mouth. Suddenly, I was so overwhelmed with that feeling that I needed to go see him, and things just went downhill from there. I never meant to ruin his relationship with Millicent."

"So you went there to see Mouth, romantically try to get him to take you back, and you thought Milli would be ok with it?" He gave her a disparaging look raising his eyebrows skeptically.

Suddenly, Rachel felt anger wash over her at being wrong, at making that mistake. She fought against Skills' words. "How do we know if they're meant to be? Everyone says that, but at this point we don't know. We will never know who ends up with who."

Skills remained unruffled. "That's prolly right. If you believe in something, you gotta keep hope for it. Sometimes people surprise us. But for you to interfere with their relationship was wrong, and I think you know it." Again, Rachel felt that overwhelming sense of defeat. She nodded, then looked back at the store.

"Well, thank you Skills. But Millicent just left, so you won't be seeing her tonight."

"Alright, alright." His head bobbed, and he tapped Jamie on the shoulder. All this time, Jamie had quietly stood there, just listening. "What do you think, J. Luke?"

"I don't know, I'm only four." Both Rachel and Skills laughed at that, somewhat relieved that they didn't have to talk about her mistake any longer.

"Well then, boys, I have some stuff to do, so I have to get going." Rachel stopped and flipped out her cell to check the time. "I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah. Bye shorty." Jamie waved as well before they turned and kept walking. Rachel went the other direction, guilty now in the silence. Had she really screwed Mouth over that bad? 'Downer' had never really fit him, so she supposed she had. For once, though, she actually felt for the people whose relationship she had ruined with a misplaced kiss or hookup.

Then the defeated sense mixed with her guilt, and Rachel immediately returned her toughs to earth. The bar was two blocks away; was she still going?

_Yep, I definitely need a drink or two._

_Or ten._

* * *

"Haley? I'm home!" called Nathan as he walked into the dimly lit entryway of his house. A bag was slung over one shoulder, and a light sheen of sweat covered his exposed torso; Nathan had jogged home from the school. "Hales?" he asked again as he closed the door behind him.

"I'm in here," she finally responded from the kitchen. Nathan smiled and went down the hall.

Haley stood in the kitchen, rummaging through drawers. She had on a short, black silk robe, with her hair tied up in a messy bun. Looking up as he came in, she stopped searching and leaned against the counter in between them. "How was your run?"

"Not bad. How was your composing?"

"It was good. Everything's coming together, everything's working out." Haley returned her gaze to the drawers and cabinets. "Ugh, except for this. Have you seen the wine opener?"

"The wine opener?" he asked, coming around to her side. "Why?" Nathan seemed slightly confused.

Haley seemed to ignore him, her head stuck in a cupboard. "Ah, here it is." She stood up straight again and seeing that Nathan was in the kitchen, went to give him a hug. "Because, I wanted to have a bottle of wine with you."

Nathan held her in the embrace. "Really? Well, what's the occasion?" He kept Haley pressed against him as he murmured into her neck.

"I told you, I'm making progress on a song. I decided we should celebrate." She wriggled out of his grasp and went to open the bottle.

Crossing the kitchen to get the wine glasses, Nathan agreed, "That sounds good to me."

A few glasses later, Nathan and Haley relaxed together on the couch. The half empty bottle was next to them on the table, and their newly refilled glasses were in their hands. In the warm room and with Haley's body pressing him into the couch, Nathan's eyelids were just beginning to droop. Suddenly, Haley jumped up, and Nathan could sense a new happiness, a delight emanating from her. His eyes followed her lazily to the sliding glass door, then he watched her go outside. She didn't breathe a word the entire time, but he had a feeling that she knew he was watching.

Knowing it was expected of him, Nathan begrudgingly lifted himself off the couch. He set his wineglass on the table and went outside to call Haley back into their comforting position. He got to the door to the backward and stood on the threshold, waiting. But when he saw her, sleep was wiped from his mind and Nathan grinned.

Haley stood near the edge of the pool. She had stripped of her silk robe, leaving herself in only the black bikini she rarely wore. One hand was planted on her hip, and she gave Nathan that dangerous 'come hither' look, the one he feared, revered, and loved.

He didn't need much more tempting; he couldn't help but obey as he crossed his patio in three strides and took Haley in his arms to kiss her. "Again I ask," he muttered between breaths, "What's the occasion?" Haley leaned her head back to look at the heavens as he kissed her neck.

"Well, I thought that since we had the chance, we might take that marriage counselors advice. Wanna go for a swim?"

* * *

Darkness fell quickly, soft night enveloping the downtown streets. It was only after seven, but already the streetlights glowed at intervals down the street Brooke and Lucas walked down. The bar that they were going to start the night with wasn't far from C over B, so they had elected to walk together when Lucas had come to pick Brooke up. They were almost there.

"So, you never told me what you thought about my book," Lucas was saying, "What'd you think?" His half smile as he turned to look at her betrayed a nervous curiosity.

"Oh…The book," Brooke replied appraisingly, "Hm. Well, it was the better of the two books you've ever made me read." Lucas laughed, remembering their 'deal' from back in junior year. Brooke's black stilettos clicked on the cement in the silence. She wore a dark, low-cut silk halter and a short skirt to match the shoes. A bright Clothes over Bros clutch was in one hand. After a long enough silence, Brooke continued, "It was good though, pretty and eloquent. It was like your best man speech at Keith's wedding. That's what I thought of while reading it." Lucas watched her interestedly. "And the dedication too. I liked the dedication." She gave him a small smile, and they exchanged a look that spoke volumes more than they were visibly communicating at the moment.

Then he broke eye contact, turning quickly, almost shyly, to look for their destination. When he looked back at her, Lucas seemed much more comfortable, like he had turned away to take a breath and find another subject. "So, for someone whose multi-million dollar business is on the line, you don't seem too stressed. Especially in comparison to yesterday."

"I got some inspiration," she shrugged. "I don't think Victoria is going to be a big problem for much longer."

"Then you got the clothes made?"

"You know, it's legally none of your business. Legally." Lucas laughed, getting the joke. Brooke went on, "But yeah, I developed some really good designs last night at Rachel's. However, I haven't made them yet, per say, so you don't get me home for a few more nights." She saw his pout, and laughed. "But really, it should be ok, the company is safe for the time being. How's _Ravens Basketball_?" She said Ravens dramatically, like it was some amazing, overrated thing.

Lucas shrugged, looking dark. "It's ok. We scraped into playoffs, but not by much because of Q's arm. We barely made it into post season, _barely_."

Brooke made no reply, and slowly a silence filled the air. Lucas thought of many things he could say to fill the vacuum, each feebler then the last. They had been together for so long, shared so many kisses, so many long, hot, sleepless nights that they had spent with one another, so many promises, memories, secrets told at night while they lay together…yet here they were, somehow still tentative around each other. Lucas almost laughed out loud, but he only smiled as he watched her. If they were so awkward, why did it feel so good to be with her?

Before the silence became painful, they got to the parking lot of the bar. It was a warm looking building, more expensive than Tric. "Here we are," Lucas said simply. They walked briskly towards the building, suddenly able to talk again. Brooke teased him about trying to show off for her with a pricy looking bar, and he shot back with some remark about her seventy dollar clutch, after which she became quiet and icy for a moment. Lucas laughed as they entered the building, and Brooke glared then allowed him a begrudging smile.

* * *

Nathan half-carried Haley out of the pool, taking her to the chaise lounge before he resumed the frenzied kissing. It was a miracle in and of itself that they had even made it to the chair, they were so blinded by each other. After laying her carefully on her back, Nathan stood up above her for just a moment. Her long, lithe body, still glistening with water, stretched out over the lounge as Nathan's darkened eyes drank her in for just a moment. "God, you are so beautiful," he said before draping his body over hers and kissing her lips hungrily.

But their bodies couldn't withstand the cold outside for long, let alone the fact that they were both drenched from their nighttime swim. "Nate…Nathan," Haley murmured. "Nate it's too cold out here, can we go inside?" She held her arms around herself and Nathan had to laugh at her girlishness.

"C'mon," he urged with swollen lips from their short, light make-out session.

Once they were inside, everything seemed to…change. Perhaps it was the fact that it was warm and familiar and comfortable, or maybe it was the fact that Jamie wasn't home, but either way, it wasn't the same as their playful kiss outside.

As they made it to the couch (again, by no small miracle), Nathan's hands dropped lower and lower, skimming over Haley's back. But it wasn't long before the couch was restricting their movements far too much. Just when Nathan was about to pull back from her lips and suggest they go upstairs, Haley's face lit up. Laughing delightedly as he nuzzled the skin of her neck and shoulder, Haley suddenly flipped Nathan over, into open air. He hit the ground with a jolt, and she landed on top of him, where they lay, intertwined.

After the initial shock and jolt of pain, Nathan smiled again and her joy as his lips explored the soft skin of her pale neck and shoulders, but the longing desire for her was deep in his throat, and Nathan knew Haley was feeling much the same emotion by the look in her eyes. He settled their bodies together with a certain determination.

Skin slid over skin, beads of sweat broke out. Nathan and Haley's mouths clashed together in a desperate battle for dominance, with an unclear winner. His calloused hands met the smooth skin of her upper thigh, providing just that roughness to make goosebumps rise from her skin. Her fingers ran compulsively through his hair again and again, tousling it just the way she liked it. Their senses were in overdrive: All they could taste was each other, only smell the light, smart scent of sweat mixed with her perfume, feel only the warmth and pressure of the other's body pressing against them. The other's breathing was all that filled their ears, and, more philosophically, they could hear their hearts beating for each other. They moved together with a pulsating rhythm, pure and natural.

* * *

They were sitting together on two of the fancy mahogany bar stools, Lucas trying to hide the red drink Brooke had ordered for them before he could say anything. She kept giggling under one hand at his attempts to drink the girlish drink while it was hidden under his arm. He knew she had ordered it in retaliation for his comment about her clutch, but he secretly enjoyed the red syrupy liquid.

"So what's up with Naley? I haven't seen them since her birthday last week," Brooke asked him. Lucas swallowed and smirked.

"Well, Jamie is spending the night with Skills, so Nathan and Haley are… alone, shall we say." Brooke kinked one eyebrow and echoed Lucas's expression.

"Oh-h, Naley alone time. I remember that. That's like when I accidentally— I remember once when they were having their alone time back in senior year and I came into our apartment…" She trailed off into a grimace when the memory overwhelmed her. "_Needless to say_," Brooke continued loudly over Lucas's laughter, "I didn't stay at that apartment for long after that." She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked around the bar.

It was crowded; there were people everywhere, mostly men getting off work. That's why they didn't notice a couple of guys standing a few feet away with drinks in their hands. Their eyes traveled up and down Brooke's body, from her bare, sun-kissed legs to the skin that wasn't covered by the dark shirt. Brooke and Lucas continued to talk, until one drunk and particularly brash guy staggered by Brooke, close enough that he actually brushed against her.

They paid no mind to it, until the same guy reached out and slapped her ass.

Before Brooke could turn around to glare, the guy had bent closer to her ear. "Hey, girly, you better take all those pretty clothes off before I rip 'em," he whispered, slurring his words slightly.

The disgusted look Brooke shot over her shoulder at the guy was all Lucas needed. He was on his feet within seconds. For the past few days, he had been stressing about his mom and Dan and Lily and the playoffs and the editing of his book; this was the straw that broke the camels back. "You wanna say that again?" he growled. The bar seemed to fall silent, and the group of guys the first one was returning to stood up.

The guy turned back around from where he had been walking away. He smiled at Lucas's challenge, looking from him to Brooke and making the connections. He addressed the brunette. "This your boyfriend? Babe, you'd better sit him down and shut him up. Just come to me when he dries up and you need a real man. I know I can satisfy whatever you need, maybe for a couple hours if you can lat that long."

Fist connected with skull before anyone could move. Lucas dropped him with the one punch and followed him down. The guy's mates, who were all drunk and pissed off, jumped in as soon as they realized what was going on, adding to the fray. Within seconds, it seemed the entire bar had gotten into it. Barstools went flying. A glass got thrown the length of the bar, smashing next to Brooke. Someone screamed, and unintelligible shouts and obscenities were coming from the fight on the floor.

And then it was over.

The bartender, being one of the most sober there besides Brooke and Lucas, had seen and understood what was going on before it happened, and had called the security guard over. The man had arrived just as the fight broke out. With the help of the bartender and a host, he broke up the fight, and Lucas and the four other guys were thrown out onto the pavement.

The guys bailed, lurching off immediately, stumbling to their cars before peeling out of the parking lot. But Lucas was still picking himself off the cement when Brooke stormed out, more scared than angry. But Lucas knew that when that fear subsided, hurricane Brooke Davis would be out in force. He prepared himself, staggering up straight. He was bleeding from the corner of his mouth and had a nasty bruise forming over one eye.

"LUCAS!" She shouted. "What the_ hell _was that? What do you think your doing, jumping into a fight like that? Sure, it was—noble, but you just can't do that for me!" Brooke waved her arms around dangerously, fire emanating from her dangerous hazel eyes. Blood was dripping from a cut across the back of her hand, but she barely noticed.

That was when Lucas realized her words weren't making sense: they were disjointed, unconnected. He stared at her for a moment. Still, though, he got the general gist as he waited for a sense of coherency to return to him. "That guy was… being a dick," was all he managed to say between breaths.

She threw her hands in the air and gave him a disparaging look. "You think?" Lucas didn't say anything, and focused on shaking his arms to work blood back into them, for they had become strangely numb. Brooke's voice took on a quieter, pleading tone. "Lucas, I can handle myself. I've heard much worse—and more creative, come to think of it—in New York."

He snapped back. "So? We're together now, I should be sticking up for you, rescuing you—"

The world changed in that instant. It was strange; the street outside suddenly seemed to be running uphill. Lucas knew that the road was definitely flat, but the restaurant and even Brooke seemed to be slanting to the right. He could barely register the shocked look on her face, the face that changed instantly to fear.

Then the world played a strange trick. It turned upside down, and the street jumped to hit the side of his face. His eyes were still wide open, staring, but he couldn't tell how he had gotten to be laying on the sidewalk. His arms and legs were tingling, Lucas realized, and his chest had at first constricted but released. But now, suddenly, he couldn't feel anything; his limbs wouldn't move, and he couldn't feel the pain that he knew was there. A pair of black stilettos moved into his field of sight, moving rapidly as though the owner was panicking. Then the whiteness on the edge of his vision doubled, and Lucas faded, feeling only an overwhelming exhaustion and sense of utter resignation.

**And there you go! I've already written half of the next chap, so it should be up within a week and a half. And I've been doing this entire story without a beta, and it's my first one, so I kinda get a pass on the delasy issue. But still, no excuses. **

**Anyways, hope you liked it and look forward to the next one, because it should be up soon. However, I don't know if you'll like it... *evil grin* Lol.**

**So, please review!**


	22. Chapter 22

_Surprising that I'm updating so soon, isn't it? Lol, I actually have the next chapter almost done, I just need more **reveiws** to squeeze it out, so be expecting it soon!_

* * *

They laid together on the floor next to the couch, much like they had done the day of the Sparkle Classic in senior year. Nathan had pulled all of the pillows and cushions off the couch and piled them on the floor, forming a sort of bed, then procured a blanket and draped it over them before turning out the lights. They knew it would have been too much effort to go upstairs, nor did they want to. Instead, they just curled in their safe, soft nest, just the two of them, together. Haley rested in the crook of Nathan's arm, tracing circles on his chest in the darkness.

"What do you think Jamie and the guys are doing right now?" she murmured, concentrating on her rotating finger. Nathan chuckled, the rumbling of his chest disrupting her drawings.

"They're probably watching _The Notebook_ right about now," he laughed. Haley giggled quietly as well. The atmosphere was so warm and comfortable; both were on the verge of falling asleep. Their eyes were shut and the scene around them was hazy with sleep.

Haley felt the aura of the room. "I love nights like these," she whispered. Feeling his body tense up, she quickly added, "I don't mean only the sex, but just being together, without a care in the world."

"Feels good being twenty-two, doesn't it?"

"Mhm. Yeah. Like that time after the rainstorm, when it was just us, for the entire night. That was sweet."

Nathan opened his eyes and sat up a little. "Remember when I snuck in your window that time back in junior year, and we were just lying together? The darkness was just like this, peaceful, still." Haley could almost see him smile, knowing what was coming next. "And then your dad walked in…"

He was cut off by Haley's laughing groan. "Oohh, don't remind me, please," she begged, grimacing. "That was so bad." She pressed her hands over her face.

"Yep," said Nathan, "He never let me live down the "coming in through the window" thing." Haley heard the deep bass sound of his laughter in his chest again.

They were silent for a moment, each lost in memories of the early years of their relationship. "I wouldn't give Jamie up for it though," said Haley presently. "The memories and the jokes. I wouldn't give Jamie or our life now up for any of it back. Like I said, nights like these are great, but what I live for are the nights when our family is together, when Jamie comes barreling around the corner to climb into our laps where he falls asleep. The nights when we go to sleep exhausted, and wake up and do it all again the next day. That's what I love. When we're a family."

Nathan pulled her tighter. "How is this so perfect?" he murmured into her hair.

Then the phone rang, twice as abrasive in the stillness and peace. They groaned simultaneously and Nathan let his head fall back onto the pillows. Haley closed her eyes again and shook her head: "And then, of course, we are reminded that a world exists outside of these four walls. I got it."

Nathan's muffled groan came again as he tightened his arms around her. "Let the machine get it, if someone really wants to talk to us that bad, then they can come over and get us." She jokingly struggled for a moment, then broke loose and bounced up to get the phone. Nathan, grinning, rearranged the pillows and his position for when Haley laid back down again. In the background, he could hear snatches of the conversation from the kitchen.

"_Yes, this is she… No, no, it's ok, we were awake…Who's calling?...What?...Ok, thank you. Yes, we will. Thank you."_

He heard the phone click off and for a long moment all was silent in the house. Just before Nathan opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, he heard her unusually slow footsteps on the wood. Turning and seeing her body come into view, the smile was wiped off Nathan's face. Haley still held the phone in one hand, and a dumbstruck look was on her face.

"Hales, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned. Something was up.

Haley looked from the phone in her hand back to him. "That was the hospital." She looked utterly confused, but fear was starting to bleed into those brown eyes Nathan loved. "Lucas is in urgent care, going into the ICU. It's bad, Nathan."

* * *

Rachel leaned against the bar, staring dejectedly at the drink in front of her, debating whether or not to drink it. She watched a drop of cool condensation roll down the side of the glass before looking around her.

The bar was filled with the lonely and the desperate. _So why am I here again? _Actually, that was an easy one: the new bar she had been hoping to go to wasn't open yet. Instead, she was here at Tric. But why was she at yet another bar, sipping yet another drink? That seemed even easier. She was here because it was her asylum. Home base. Safe zone. In the last four years, it had become a place to go to drown her problems in the drink of the night, currently a Bacardi, and perhaps to forget her troubles with some random guy she would pick up. Rachel snorted, reliving the truth that she had realized an hour and a half or so ago.

These were the reasons she had wrecked things with Mouth. She had been feeling bad, gone to a bar, gotten drunk, picked up another one night stand, then woken up, wishing that guy was Mouth. And then her dumb ass had gone over there to declare her feelings for him. The damn alcohol and the damn sex had led her to destroy her paper thin relationship with Mouth and his solid relationship with Millicent. Dammit!

Rachel slammed her hand down on the bar, making those nearest her jump. That was it. No more. From now on, there would be no more drinking, no more one night stands, not until it was for the right reasons. Her new resolution was to face her problems head on, not drown them in a shot glass or beer mug or even syringe.

So busy was she brooding that she didn't notice the door open and a new guy enter the bar. She barely felt the atmosphere change, but she sure as hell noticed when he sat down next to her.

"What're you drinking?" His voice was rough, but had a tempered quality to it. Rachel smiled humorlessly, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Whatever you intend on buying me," she replied edgily, tracing a finger over the rim of her glass. Just because he bought her a drink didn't mean she would drink it. She still didn't look at him.

He shrugged and leaned back. "Ok, if you want. I guess we'll have…" he beckoned the bartender over, "Two 151's." The bartender nodded and started to turn away. "Hey, and two for her too."

Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Wow. Rough night?" When the mystery guy didn't say anything, she started guessing. "Girlfriend dump you? Lose some money? Lose your job?"

"Bingo," he interrupted, "Lost my job." He seemed so dejected yet he said it so matter-of-factly that Rachel turned and looked at him. The man couldn't be older than twenty five, and he had light, messy brown hair that fell over his greenish eyes. His dark t-shirt clung to his muscular frame, defining every curve and angle. He could've passed for a male model in one of the shows Rachel had done in New York.

_Crap. There goes my resolution._

Oh well. It could wait until tomorrow. Tonight would be like a Mardi Gras for her: Party hard and sin harder, doing whatever you can't tomorrow and beyond. Grinning at her clever idea, she downed the two Bacardi's, laughing at Mystery Guy's reaction. Turning fully, she draped one arm over his shoulder.

"So, is that enough for you? Can we go somewhere now, or do you need more?"

He got the hint, unfortunately for her. Rachel saw the disgusted raise of the eyebrow and the much more subtle uncomfortable pulling away. She grimaced internally and lifted her arm off him.

"Uh," he started uncomfortably, "I only bought you those because you were the only person in here who looked as broken as me. I'm married." Rachel looked down and saw him twisting a gold wedding band, and mentally smacked herself.

"I-I'm sorry," she choked out, turning red.

"Yeah," he replied, taking his drink and walking away.

Rachel looked skyward. "Stupid karma," she muttered into her arms as she slumped over onto the bar. Then she heard clapping from somewhere above her. Groaning, she raised her head to see Owen, who she knew vaguely from New York when Brooke brought him up. He was shaking his head, applauding slowly.

"Nicely played," was all he said, smirking.

She was feeling hostile after that rejection. "Don't you dare say a word. I've had a crap day. No, scratch that, a crap week."

"Well, I would say you need to eat better, but I doubt that's the case." Looking up and down the bar to make sure no customers were waiting, Owen leaned on the counter across from her. "What's up?" he asked, shrugging.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm not messing around, Owen." She knew he wasn't being serious, and she wasn't in the mood for it.

"Neither am I. Talk to me." She gave him a dubious look, and he took a breath and began to clean a glass. "Listen, to be a good bartender you gotta be part psychologist. I'm usually listening to all these sob stories: I figure yours would be an interesting change of pace. What's going on in that pretty head?"

Rachel ignored the compliment (or pick up line, she couldn't decide which). But she saw the intense honesty in his eyes, convincing her that he wasn't jerking her around. Heaving a sigh, she told him what had happened with Mouth.

Owen was silent almost the whole way through, and Rachel appreciated his supportive gaze. Upon finishing, she looked down, anywhere but his eyes, waiting on for some reason on baited breath for his negative analysis of her mistake, just like everyone else.

"You're really broken up about this, huh?" he asked finally, after a long silence.

"I just want to make it better," the red-read decided. "And I don't want to screw anyone over unless I have to."

"Well, I believe you. I think we're all just trying to make the best of what we have; you were just looking to see if there was anything with Mouth, trying to find that comfort that few discover. But the point is you realized you screwed up, and you want to fix it. I'd say that's a lot more than some people, and that you've come a long way. That's pretty good, Rachel Gatina." He nodded at her, and they held their gazes for longer than necessary. Rachel finally broke away and nervously checked her phone while Owen poured a drink for a customer a few seats away.

"Oh my god," Rachel suddenly said, staring at the text message she had just received. Owen sidled over.

"What's wrong?" he asked, but Rachel was already grabbing her purse and throwing some cash on the bar.

"I gotta go, I'm sorry Owen." She hurried to the door.

"Wait, what about me?" He yelled, stopping her in her tracks. "What's with us?"

Rachel cocked her head, thinking. "To be determined," she decided, calling back over her shoulder.

Owen grinned that cocky half-smile, seeing the interested look on her face. "How about 'to be continued'?"

* * *

Mouth didn't know whether the thick wooden door was stifling his apologies, or if Millicent just wouldn't listen to him, but he guessed it was the latter. Still, he kept trying.

"Milli, please come out. I think you owe me that much, I need to apologize to you. What happened with Rachel was a misunderstanding, and I need you to know that. I need to see you." It seemed to be in vain. Mouth slumped against the wall next to the door of Millicent's apartment where he was calling through the door to her hopelessly. "Millicent, most guys would have given up by now, moved on if someone was being as stubborn as you. But I'm still here, still saying the same thing that I've said since last week. That counts for something, right?" He knew she was in there; he could here things being moved around, shoes clicking quickly on the tile. "Come on, just open the door, Millicent."

The door flew open and banged against the wall, just inches from Mouth's head. Millicent nearly ran through the open doorway, digging around in her purse for something, without even glancing at Mouth. For a moment he was dumbstruck, but then he recovered himself.

"God, Milli, are you trying to kill me?" he demanded, still slightly shocked but not angry. He was just glad she had finally emerged from her hideaway.

Stopping at the top of the stairs, Millicent thought for a moment. "That's an advantage of me running out the door, yes," she decided seriously. Then she turned and continued down the stairs, still looking for her keys in her purse. Her heels tapped on the inexpensive tiles of the stairwell, echoing around the walls. They were the only people going down at this time of night, nearing 9:30.

Mouth jumped to his feet and followed her, trying to get her attention. "Millicent, come on, you're out, can't we talk before you go rushing off somewhere?" Again, Millicent stopped and turned.

"Brooke and Lucas are in the hospital, and I have to get over there. Now." Her tone was very matter-of-factly, like she was telling some random passerby. Millicent didn't wait for him to answer, but set off down the stairs again, and for a moment, Mouth stood there, just as dumbstruck as when the door had nearly hit him.

"Wait, they're in the hospital?" She didn't respond, and Mouth descended as quickly as possible after her. He finally caught his girlfriend-in-limbo at the door. "Wait, I'm coming too." He hooked a hand around her elbow, and turned her back to face him and accept what he was saying.

Millicent's eyes were reluctant. "Why?" she asked, heaving a heavy sigh, like this was just one game that she'd had to play too many times.

"Because, Brooke and Lucas are my friends, and if they're in danger, or hurt, I'm going to be there for them. I'm also going to be there for everyone at the hospital now, like Nathan and Haley." He paused, taking a breath like a diver before taking the plunge. "And I'm going to be there for you too, whether you want me to or not. I'm sorry, Millicent, but that's just how it's going to be. I'm here for you now."

* * *

They had made record time on the drive to the hospital.

It had taken Nathan and Haley only seconds to regain their usual rationale after she delivered the news, right about the time they realized Lucas could be dying. "C'mon, Hales, I'll drive," was all Nathan said after he staggered upright. Haley had rushed into the bedroom and grabbed a sweatshirt and the first pair of jeans she could find, while Nathan threw on the basketball shorts and shirt he had been wearing that day. They were out the door in seconds, and Haley put her hair up in a messy, careless bun as Nathan drove through the empty streets of Tree Hill.

The ride had been silent.

The mechanical doors slid open now, flushing the parking lot with a bright, unnatural light. Nathan and Haley hurried in, quickly scanned the waiting room, and found Karen, Andy, and Lily. They were on the far end, huddled together in an anxious group. Karen looked up just as they entered and they two families met in the middle, where Karen hugged Haley.

"Karen, what— they didn't say on the phone— what happened? What's wrong with Lucas?" Haley tripped over he own words in an attempt to get them all out at once. The two women focused only on each other, and Nathan and Andy stood silently behind them, watching the scene. Nathan looked up once to meet Andy's eyes, and Andy nodded at him.

"Haley, I'm so glad you're here. They—they don't know yet, what's wrong. The doctors said that Lucas was on his date with Brooke, and then he passed out. But the doctors should be coming out any second. Who else knows?"

"I called Millicent and told her before we left; I think that she'll tell everyone who needs to know, but I didn't call anyone else. What about Brooke? Has anyone explained what's happened, at all?"

As if on cue, a wiry nurse came out, his eyes scanning the gleaming waiting room for Karen. He found her, checked his notes again, then walked over with a grim face.

"Mrs. Roe?" he asked, though it seemed more of a formality; he knew it was her. Evidently he wasn't very experienced, and was taking this as seriously as possible.

Karen nodded.

"Lucas has stabilized, but barely. Immediate family members can see him through the window…" the doctor trailed off, looking at the large group as if trying to decide who could come in.

"Oh, ok…" Karen looked around as well. The normally courageous woman looked so lost that Nathan stepped up for her sake.

"I'm his brother," he declared. Karen seemed to draw strength from Nathan's solid approach and turned to Andy.

"Will you stay out here with Lily? I don't want her seeing Lucas right now." She took a steadying breath, and Andy agreed, taking Lily's small hand.

The nurse regained his pompous attitude. "What about you?" he asked, addressing Haley.

Haley shrugged nervously. She just wanted to get in and see that Lucas was still breathing; she didn't want to go through a question and answer period. "He's my best friend, I've known him for years—"

"Sorry," the doctor interrupted, "Immediate family only." He didn't seem very apologetic.

She stepped back slightly, suddenly scared. She needed to go see her best friend, even if it were just through glass. Haley looked as lost as Karen had just a second ago. The nurse remained unmoved, but Nathan saw Haley's reaction and bristled. He looked at the impassive nurse, who Nathan was a good six inches taller than and who Nate definitely outweighed, and grit his teeth. Stepping forward to gain the man's attention, Nathan growled decisively, "She's coming."

"But sir, hospital rules—"

Nathan hooked an arm protectively over his wife's shoulder. "She's coming," he repeated, and the nurse paled.

"Fine. Follow me." He looked very apprehensive of Nathan's unspoken threat.

Leading them through a long series of hallways that contained gurneys and other impatient doctors, their nurse told them about Lucas. His tone was very matter-of-fact and business like.

"From what we've been able to piece together from Ms. Davis and what the EMT's told us, Mr. Scott was in a fight, and under a great deal of stress. Also, from preliminary tests, it seems his heart has been working hard for a while now, too hard for his condition. It could be things like sports or stress at work or home. Regardless, it has been weighing on his heart."

Nathan grimaced, remembering the hard workout from this morning, as well as the strain all three coaches had been under since the start of postseason.

The doctor continued in the same tone as before. "Now, since he has HCM the heart was working extremely hard just to keep going from everything lately. When he got into the fight, his heart started working harder, too hard, and Lucas's body realized it could keep this pace for much longer. However, he couldn't slow down, so the body compensated: the heart sped up to a speed much faster than normal and worked less. However, this doesn't mix well with HCM: the body basically lost control, and the heart was pumping so fast that the blood couldn't be used by the cells before it was sucked away again. It's a condition known as Ventricular Tachycardia, or V-Tach, and Mr. Scott just had an extreme variant of it. Eventually, he lost consciousness, and a few minutes later the EMT's arrived and got him here."

Haley took advantage of the nurse's long, dramatic pause. "So what's wrong? He just passed out, right? Was it like a heart attack?" The four turned down another hallway, this one with a sign at the top reading "ICU." They heard Karen take a steadying breath behind them.

"Well, when Lucas was passed out his heart was still pumping, so in that sense it's not like a heart attack." The doctor led them through a door, striding importantly through it before them. He talked over his shoulder as they jogged to catch up. "But, the blood was basically useless, and his brain wasn't getting oxygen. We managed to slow the heart rate down on the way here, and now it's stable again. However, we aren't sure how much damage was done in those three minutes it took for the ambulance to get to the scene, and we won't know until he wakes up, if ever."

When Nathan spoke, his voice was deep and calm, the opposite of the two women with him. He was much better at hiding emotions like these than Karen and Haley. "Well can't you just wake him up? You've got machines or meds for that, right?"

"Again," the nurse sighed impatiently. He stopped before a door and turned to look irritably towards them. "We don't know how much damage has been done, and also don't want to risk hurting him further by trying to wake him up. We can't force a body to regain consciousness. We don't know how he will be when he wakes up, nor, indeed, if he ever will. We are just unsure right now."

At this point, he opened the door and showed them inside. The four were in a small, closet-looking room, lit by one fluorescent ceiling track that cast deep shadows. They crowded inside, looking as one to the single window that displayed Lucas's room.

At first, he looked like he was sleeping. Karen almost smiled. Lucas's hair, which had grown out just long enough to run fingers through, was messy and slightly damp with sweat, just like he looked whenever he woke up in the morning. But then they saw the beeping monitors, the cords that pumped life into his arm, the computers that watched for any differences in his heartbeats and reported them instantly to doctors. There was more track lighting in this room, and it cast a harsh artificial glow. As they looked closer, Lucas seemed to change from the sleeping boy they saw him as; he looked pale and weak, with the lights casting shadows on the wrong parts of his face and making him look gaunt and sunken, like a skeleton. His breaths were shallow and far between.

He looked dead.

Haley broke down in seeing her best friend so helpless, but Karen just looked strangely grave. Maybe it was because she was just too overwhelmed by the whole spectacle that she couldn't react, or so steeled from hiding her emotions over the past few minutes that she couldn't access them. She just stared at her only son's lifeless body, while silent tears slid down Haley's cheeks. Nathan put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it, the only comforting gesture he could think of, and it probably didn't help much.

Finally succeeding in tearing his eyes away from the sight before them, Nathan turned to the nurse, who had watched them stonily. "How's Brooke?" Haley turned at Brooke's name, instantly feeling guilty for forgetting her friend.

The doctor jumped and checked his papers. "Ms. Davis?" he asked, scanning the clipboard. "Brooke Davis suffered a cut on the palm of her left hand; they're checking her out right now. I'd say they're just going to give her some painkillers and let her sleep for a few hours; she's had a very rough night."

Nathan looked at Karen, who hadn't moved the entire time. "Karen," he murmured. "Ms. Roe, I think we should leave now." It was comforting for Haley to know that Nathan was still in control, still calm, still solid for her. She had someone to lean on.

"W-what?" Karen jumped just as the doctor had done, seeming to rush from a million miles away back into the present. "Uh, ok." She meekly let herself be ushered out the door before she could look back at her first born son again.

Haley was the last to leave. Stopping before the door, she glanced back once more, taking in what could be her last sight of Lucas alive.

* * *

The walk back to the waiting room was much different than the first. On the way in, Nathan, Haley and Karen had been tense, clinging to the nurse's every word but somehow not hearing them. Their pace had been quick and anxious, but also fearful. They wanted to get there, but they didn't want to.

On the way back, all the anxiousness in their steps had been replaced with a grave fear. It wasn't outright, quick-breathing, heart-hammering fear, but rather a more gradual, deeper dread that fed off the thought that Lucas could in fact, die. The three of them didn't breathe a word to each other the whole way back, but stayed close together, taking comfort in the others.

Upon their reentrance to the waiting room, Andy saw them and immediately stood, but Karen just looked at him and shook her head. He came over, adopting their grim expressions.

They all stood together.

There was a commotion at the front desk. "What the hell do you mean, you don't know where she is? You're a secretary, you should know everything that goes on in here!"

Looking over, just like every other person in the room, Haley saw Rachel Gatina leaning over the secretary's desk, yelling at the poor woman. "I just want to get in and see Brooke Davis, or even Lucas Scott—" Out of fear for the woman's safety, Haley hurried over and took Rachel by the arm. With a silent apology to the woman behind the desk, Haley pulled Rachel back to where their group was standing.

"Hales," Nathan said as soon as she got back, "I'm going to go call Skills, he can bring Jamie." Haley nodded at him, then glared at the redhead in front of her.

Haley looked distinctly ruffled as she addressed her. "Rachel, I really can't deal with this right now, so just sit, I— I just can't, I don't wanna take any of you BS, ok?"

"Sorry," Rachel murmured, talking quietly as if to compensate for her shouting earlier. "She was being uncooperative." Haley gave a slightly hysterical sob-laugh.

"So did you tell anyone?" she asked.

Rachel shook her head. "I think everyone knows. Millicent told me, Nathan is calling Skills, Brooke and Lucas… well obviously, and Peyton…Oh."

"I got her," Haley said, taking a deep breath and pulling out her cell phone.

* * *

"Kinda icy in here, isn't it?"

Derek sat across the living room from his blonde half-sister, who sat curled up in a chair, scribbling on a drawing pad. She looked up, once, but didn't meet his eyes. He smiled and leaned back, knowing what was going through her mind right now.

"Peyton, I know that you're hurt that I'm leaving so soon—"

For the first time since they got home from the Riverwalk, Peyton looked up from her paper and stared him full in the eye. "I'm not mad, I'm not that selfish. I get that you have to leave. But… I just don't know why it has to be so soon." But for all her denial, she certainly seemed mad. Angry that not only was he leaving, that Derek could read her so easily and how he knew what her problem was.

"I have to Peyton, it's my life. I love being a Marine, and it's all I have now."

She waited for a long moment. "It's fine. I do feel kinda selfish, with you. But I remember the last time I tried to hold someone back from what he loves, and it didn't turn out so well, for me at least." Peyton looked back at her paper and scratched in another few shapes.

"I can't draw," Derek said suddenly. Peyton looked up, confused. He shrugged. "I can't. I guess I'm jealous of you too."

Peyton smiled, her icy demeanor falling away. With a sad, self-deprecating laugh at herself, she realized that Derek, despite his lack of artistic skills, was just like her. He knew her too well, and they had only spent a few days together, including four years ago. It was the same sort of disarming thing she would have said.

Derek nodded at the pad. "What's it of?" Peyton looked down, then threw the notebook across the table, where it came to a perfect rest in front of him. Her brother picked it up and studied it for a moment. It was dark outside Brooke's house, and the room was lit by a single lamp between them: it all seemed to make the silence seem quieter, more serious.

The picture resembled those she had drawn in high school. It was a crowd of faceless people, standing to the left. Two figures stood out in the center, and the rest of the crowd faced them. To the right of the page, one form stood alone, its body turned away from the group but its face turned towards them. Its arms were around itself, giving the impression of cold. Invisible wind lifted the figures blond curls up around her face.

Derek looked up at Peyton's blank, waiting face. He looked grim. "Not very subtle, is it?" She glared, and suddenly, from him seeing the picture, Peyton's angry was back. He tentatively slid the pad back to her, realizing he had crossed a line.

Minutes passed. Finally, Derek spoke up again. "What happened on prom night, Peyton?"

Peyton sighed, like it was a story that she'd had to tell too many times, had to relive more than she would have liked. "I opened the door, it was supposed to be Lucas. _He _turned, punched me, then I blacked out." Her voice was strangely monotone. "I came to a few minutes later, when Lucas was knocking at the door. Ian had a hand over my mouth, and we were pressed against the door. As soon as Lucas left, Ian gave me a shot of something, knocked me out. This time when I woke up, I was tied up in my basement. He took pictures, 'danced' with me." She put air quotes around "danced." Derek listened, his knuckles turning steadily whiter. Peyton's phone vibrated, but she hit a button without looking at it and continued.

"Eventually, it got to the point where I just wasn't thinking clearly anymore. I remember him going to the window, then him walking up the stairs, leaving the door open. I was sure no one could hear me, so I didn't even bother to yell. I just sat there, fading in and out of consciousness.

"Then Brooke came down the stairs. I thought it was him, and my mind cleared a little bit. I saw her, and nearly cried. She was here now, and so was Ian, and we were screwed." She took a deep, slow breath. The story seemed to be getting more difficult to tell. "He grabbed her, tied her up, then went upstairs again. I said something to Brooke, she said something back, and it kinda faded from there. Then Ian had a knife to her throat and I knew that I couldn't let him do it, whether or not I wanted to kick her ass myself. He untied me, since I promised to kill Brooke, then I stabbed him."

For a moment there was a flicker of pride in Derek's eyes, but it was gone before Peyton could look again. "After that, we fought him off together. She saved me, and I saved her."

"You really are my little sister, huh?" he asked, smiling, and the pride was back.

Just then, Peyton's phone vibrated again, this time playing "Pain," by Three Days Grace. Rolling her eyes, she pressed a button and checked the text message.

**It's Haley. Since your not picking up, I thought you'd like to know: Brooke and Lucas are in the hospital, and Lucas is in intensive care…**

A second later, before Peyton could react, another text message came in, from Haley again.

…**You should be here.**

* * *

"Mrs. Scott?" The doctor standing above her looked different than the rest. He was old, for one. But he had kinder eyes, softer, grayer, than the hard steel of the other doctors around. He watched Haley with a sad understanding as she stood up from the two chairs she had been lying on in the waiting room.

"Yes?" For some reason, Haley felt the strangest sense of dread, just by the way he said her name. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she stood resolutely. God, she wished Nathan were right here next to her.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Scott… passed away a few minutes ago."

The air solidified, like heavy cement around her mouth, like lead that poured into her lungs and blocked her throat and airways. It compressed around her, crushing, pounding. The waiting room disappeared as if someone had switched off a television set; the scene around her sucked away, leaving her in total blackness.

Black, nothing, void, space, numb, dead. Lucas was dead.

No. Lucas couldn't be dead. He was Lucas. He was Lucas Eugene Scott, son to Karen Roe, nephew to Keith Scott, son of Dan Scott, brother to Nathan Scott, boyfriend to Brooke Davis, best friend to Haley James Scott, uncle to James Lucas Scott, brother to Lily Roe, coach and mentor of Quentin Fields, as well as eleven other boys.

And he was also… gone. Just gone.

Hours, or minutes, or eternities later, she found herself in a sitting position, if one could call it that. She was hunched over in her chair, elbows on her knees supporting her head. Haley was trying her best not vomit all over the polished, chrome white floor. Nathan rubbed a hand over her back, looking very troubled as well, trying to comfort her, but it wasn't working. Soft words were coming from his mouth.

"Are you ok, Haley?" A deep, shuddering breath was his only response. "Never mind, that was a stupid question. Hales, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that it happened, and I'm sorry I wasn't here when it happened. I wasn't here for you, to support you." He had to pause, to take in the harsh reality that was facing them. All around the couple, the people that they knew sat in hard backed chairs, staring stonily into space. Skills and Jamie were on their way. _Poor kid,_ Nathan thought suddenly of his son, _he won't understand what happened to his uncle._ He let out a long, tense breath, and looked back at Haley.

"I'm so, so sorry."

* * *

_Just like Natha, I'm sorry! But I promise, this will open up new avenues and storylines that I can explore now. Leave a review, so that the next chapter can come out quickly!_


	23. Chapter 23

Peyton was already regretting her decision to show Derek the text message.

"You can't tell me you're not going!" he shouted.

_The moment he had seen the message, Derek had stood up. "I'll drive," he offered hurriedly, looking for his keys. Peyton had remained motionless, and stared at him for a second. Then she returned to her drawing._

"_Ok, tell everyone I said hi." His shoulders had stiffened at that._

"_What are you talking about, Peyton? They're some of your best friends. And you're going to ignore them because of some… some stupid fight? How old are you?"_

"_Sarcastic beyond my years," she had drawled. _

"_You can't tell me you're not going!"_

Finally, Peyton threw down her notebook and pen and stood up to make her eyes level with his chest. "And why should I? They don't want me there."

"Really?" Derek picked up the phone and showed her the message again.

"Brooke doesn't want me there!" Peyton revised. To Derek, it seemed more like she was arguing with herself now.

"Yeah, just like you didn't want her there when Ian was attacking you, and just like she didn't want to be there. But she still showed up, ready to help you, thinking that she was just going to convince you to go to prom. But even after she was caught and nearly killed, when she got free she could have run screaming from the house, but instead she comes to find you."

Peyton stared coldly, looking betrayed.

"And this is how you repay her," Derek continued, lowering his voice. "Your best friend is in the hospital, your supposed love may be dying, all of your other friends want you there, but you are afraid to go. I guess you really aren't my sister."

It took Peyton a while to speak again. "But, Brooke and Lucas—"

"Would do the same thing if they were in your shoes. They would want to be there for you."

* * *

"I'm so, so sorry Haley," said Nathan, rubbing her back. "I should have been here." He said the same thing over and over again, trying to ice over the pain and fear with the continuous stream of his tender words.

She cleared her throat and sat up for the first time since Nathan had come back in from calling Skills, and he saw how ashen her face was. The white contrasted starkly with her bloodshot, teary brown eyes. "It's not your fault," she croaked, then cleared her throat again and sat up more. "You… you couldn't have stopped me from having that nightmare. I was just scared, Nathan, ever since I found out he had HCM I've been waiting for this, and now it's here and I might lose him and…I don't know what to do."

He knew how helpless she felt in this situation. Haley was always one to make everyone she loved stop hurting, to heal them even if it caused her pain. Sitting here, not knowing, not being able to do anything, trapped by each ticking second of the clock; she must have been losing her mind. He wiped a tear from her face. "Hey, hey," Nathan whispered, "We aren't going to lose him. He'll fight it, he'll come back. If I have to go in there myself and kick his ass to make him fight back, I'll do it. But Lucas will be ok, I promise you that."

She gave a humorless laugh. "You seem to be promising a lot of things that are out of your control lately."

"If it'll make you feel better," he shrugged. "Is there anything else? No more nightmares?"

"Just stay with me from now on," she said. Haley still looked a little shaken up.

* * *

The cool night air rushed inside to lift Peyton's blonde curls around her head as she rushed into the waiting room. She looked around room; it was empty save for everyone she knew.

Haley and Nathan sat in one corner, huddled together. A few seats away, Skills and Rachel sat next to each other, smiling and playing with Jamie. Mouth was closest to the door, watching Millicent, who was talking to the secretary. Karen sat alone as well, but Andy was walking towards her with Lily by his side. Every person in the room looked up as they heard the swish of the sliding doors, and Peyton was suddenly subject to many blank stares.

Then she felt the warm presence of Derek behind her, and Peyton was reminded why she had come in the first place.

Strengthening, she asked, "How are they?" She could barely choke out the question, and the room stayed silent. Even the secretary at her desk stopped typing.

Without saying anything, Haley rose and crossed the room to hug her friend. They stayed like that for a long moment until Haley pulled away after to look Peyton in the eye. "I'm glad you came. Brooke's fine, but Lucas…He…" She faltered, wiping her worn face with the heel of one hand.

"Isn't," Mouth said simply. Haley gravely nodded.

"We haven't seen Lucas yet," she continued as Peyton listened raptly. They spoke in a low voice, afraid to disturb anyone in this sad, forlorn place. "We don't know when we will be able to. But everyone's been in to see Brooke. I think she's sleeping now. They were on a date—"

"Can I see her?"

"Brooke? Uh, I think so…" Haley looked cautiously to the secretary, who had been hanging on their every word. Apparently, sitting at a desk on the night shift in Tree Hill General was a very boring job. The woman nodded.

"Room 313, then," said Haley bluntly. Peyton nodded and went to turn back to Derek, but Haley's voice stopped her once more. "I'm glad you came. Everyone is. Even Brooke and Lucas, regardless of whether they say it or not. Thank you." Peyton turned once more and took Haley's hand, giving it a squeeze. Haley smiled, winked, then let go and curled up in Nathan's arms again. Peyton looked back to Derek, who stood at the window where they had come in.

Her older brother motioned down the hall, a silent gesture of belief in his sister. Drawing strength from it, Peyton went to find her friend.

* * *

Peyton walked in slowly, not to be quiet, but because she felt like she was intruding. Like she didn't have a right to be there. The room was dark and quiet, and completely empty of any beeping machines or monitors one would imagine in a hospital room.

She saw the bed almost immediately. Brooke was nestled under the covers, her brown hair splayed across her slowly rising and falling chest. Her face was serene and peaceful, and Peyton half smiled, remembering teenage Brooke at sleepovers and trips they had gone on together. She approached the bed slowly, not wanting to break this image. Only once Peyton sat in the bedside chair did she take a breath and began to feel more at ease.

"Brooke," she whispered, "Brooke, are you awake?"

_That was a stupid question, _her sarcastic inner-self reminded her. Aloud, she said, "Brooke, I don't know if your listening or what, but I'm here. It's funny actually, an hour ago I would have never expected to be here, but I guess I… we have Derek to thank for that. He's been helping me lately, to get through some stuff. To clear my head.

"He made me come here tonight, and I'm glad I did, otherwise I'd still be at home drawing those pictures you hate." She gave a small laugh. "Do you remember that time you got mad at me, because I had just had another of my zillion breakups with Nathan and I was being all moody and drawing? You actually yelled at me, then convinced my dad to take us to the beach, even though I didn't want to go. The water was freezing, I remember, but for some reason we kept chasing the waves. You made me smile, truly, that day, and it felt so good knowing that you were there, that someone was there.

"I—I made a mistake in cutting you out of my life. I just… Lucas broke up with me one day, if you can call it that, and I equated it to you, and suddenly everything was your fault. I focused everything on you, because you were the one solid thing I had. I've missed you so much, Brooke, these past few weeks, and I haven't even realized it because I didn't want to miss you. I walked by Suburban Filth the other day in the mall, and laughed out loud remembering our jail time, which still isn't off my record, by the way." The laugh now turned into a long, shuddering sigh, and Peyton drew her knees up to her chest on the chair. It didn't matter that she was talking to someone that was unconscious; in fact, it made everything easier, because Peyton needed to get this out. "These last couple weeks I've not only missed you but I've felt lonely without you, and seeing you like this, even though I know you're fine, I… I don't want to lose you. I'm sorry Brooke, for everything."

Peyton looked at her former best friend's serene, peaceful face, then stood up and went to the door. She had just set one foot outside when she heard a voice behind her.

"That was a pretty good day."

Peyton whirled and stared, frozen in place by the shock of her best friend suddenly waking up.

"Well, you look like a deer caught in headlights. Albeit a very blonde, curly deer." Brooke opened her eyes and grinned slightly, relaxing her shoulders into the pillow behind her.

"Brooke?" she asked, and Brooke ceased giggling to watch her friend pensively. Peyton recovered herself slightly. Brooke was awake, smiling. Peyton straightened, feeling caught off guard and a little self-conscious. "Uh, did you hear everything?"

Brooke smiled again, rolling her eyes. "Of course. I wasn't really sleeping. I just pretend I am every time I hear the door open because I swear that male nurse is a perv." She raised one eyebrow and glanced towards the door. Peyton laughed as well, though a little uncomfortably. That wasn't exactly the answer she had been looking for, and Brooke sensed that.

"P. Sawyer, I'm so sorry too, and I've missed you so much." Her tone and eyes suddenly became much softer, taking Peyton in with a serious, loving note. "It was my fault, all of this. I went about my relationship with Lucas the wrong way, I should have talked to you—"

Peyton interjected with a short bark of laughter at this, stopping Brooke midsentence. Playing with the fake flowers on Brooke's bedside for a moment, Peyton bit her tongue and looked down. "Brooke, I don't own Lucas, especially since we weren't together, even though I felt that we were. I just blamed you for him 'breaking up' with me." She looked up suddenly. "And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Brooke said, adding a touch of finality to her words. "Can we just… be us again? Just Brooke and Peyton, together?" She sat up in bed.

Peyton grinned fully. Brooke had forgiven her, and she had forgiven Brooke. They were one unit again, attached at the hip. Best friends, like they had promised each other.

"Hoes over Bros?" Brooke asked, holding out one bandaged fist.

Peyton tackled her in a hug, pinning Brooke to the bed. They were a messy tangle of limbs and brown and blonde hair, just laughing. Together.

* * *

"Karen." The soft New Zealand lilt in Andy's voice made Karen look up. Gratefully, she accepted the coffee he offered. He sat down next to her to share in her deliberations.

Karen remembered when Lucas had had his heart attack four years ago. She hadn't had anyone back then, save for the child that was growing quickly in her stomach. Keith was gone, Andy was gone, and Lucas might as well have been gone. Karen had lost all her strength in that moment, for in that moment she'd had no one to turn to. Everyone had their own issues and problems after the state championship and that night. She hated being alone.

So tonight, when she had received the news and they'd made their flight to the hospital, Karen recognized the fear setting in. _It was the same situation, Lucas might die, I…I can't do this._ She had withdrawn into herself, barely speaking to Andy or even Lily, the light of her life. It was going to be the same as last time, with no one to fully understand her.

But it wasn't the same. Andy was here, and he wasn't offering advice or sympathy. He merely offered a never ending supply of silent support, and care. Her daughter, Lily, was here too, to curl up in her mother's lap to make her feel better, to twirl on the waiting room floor to make Karen laugh.

They were here, and she was eternally grateful for it.

"How are you?" He asked tenderly.

"I want him to be ok," she said, surprising herself with the sudden comment. Andy looked at her, tearing his eyes away from a particularly interesting piece of wall. He studied her face.

"That's the magic of second chances. You don't always get them, but when you do, you have to take advantage of it. It doesn't always happen, but when it does, it's for a reason. Life gives us a second chance so that we can fix our mistakes, whatever they may be." Andy's usually smooth voice faltered for a moment here, and Karen looked up from the tile she had been studying. He coughed slightly, and his tone became more down to earth. "Lucas will be ok; he'll get his second chance."

Karen never took her eyes off Andy. Her face remained completely motionless. "I'm sorry." Suddenly, every look he had given her over the past weeks made sense, every unfinished conversation had meaning. This was her second chance.

"For what?" He laughed slightly.

"Everything," she breathed in reply.

Whatever his next question was, it was stopped by her lips against his mouth in a full kiss. For a moment, his body was shocked and stiff, but soon his emotions took over and he placed one hand behind her ear. When they finally pulled apart, Andy's look was questioning but loving.

"This is my second chance, Andy. Ever since Keith died, I never thought I could have another one, but you came back, and I'm not alone anymore. I've got you, and I didn't realize it until now."

For a response, Andy just kissed her again. This time, Karen relaxed into his arms, relieved. She wasn't alone.

* * *

Millicent didn't really know Lucas Scott. Well, she knew him through Mouth. Mouth hade often told her stories of the infamous Rivercourt basketball games, and all the fights Lucas, Skills, Fergie and Junk had often gotten into over the years for defending Mouth against some bully. Millicent knew how close the four friends were, often reminded by seeing them hangout together in their apartment.

She knew Lucas through Brooke, too, though to a lesser extent. Until last December, when Brooke had moved back to Tree Hill and Millicent had come along, the only time she had ever heard of Lucas Scott was when she had accidentally stumbled over a few letters in Brooke's desk. Brooke had come in an instant later, snatched the letters from Millicent's sight, and put them in a small box. When she had asked, Brooke simply said that, "They were for someone I lost." When she asked if Brooke was going to send them, Brooke just shook her head.

But Brooke didn't know that Millicent had seen the address on the envelopes. Lucas Scott, 1982 Burnette Drive.

Then, when she first arrived in Tree Hill, she asked Peyton about Lucas. Peyton had replied with a surly look, so Millicent tried Haley, the girl she had met recently and was becoming quick friends with. Haley had responded with a quick, monotone, "Lucas broke Brooke's heart in high school, then they fell in love. But things happened, life got in the way, and now Lindsey's here."

And that was the most she could get out of anyone.

Millicent had met Lucas briefly at the wedding, coming as Mouth's date. Her overall impression of him was that he didn't seem right at all for Brooke. She tried to talk to Mouth about it, but he seemed very stony at the wedding, and even upset at seeing Lindsey walk down the aisle to stand with Lucas.

All in all, it led back to the fact that she really didn't know Lucas. Since he was the one in the hospital, why was she still here? As she leaned against the wall of the empty hallway that led to the bathrooms and ran a hand through her hair, the answer came around the corner.

Mouth's face was already apologetic, before he even fully saw her. Striding over purposely, he took a deep breath.

"Millicent, I'm sorry—" His tone was strong, like he wanted to get everything out.

"I'm here for you," she suddenly said. "For you. And… and you're here for me." She looked utterly confused, like two and two were no longer adding up to four. Millicent's brow furrowed, and she looked down, as if she was trying to figure out some difficult problem. "I'm here for you, and you're here for me."

Now Mouth looked confused too. "Yeah, like I said. Like I promised."

She looked up suddenly. Her brow was still furrowed, but Millicent's eyes were crystal clear. "I'm sorry." She rolled it around in her mouth, nodding as if the apology had a mild, pleasant taste. "Hm. I never should have doubted you, Marvin, because somewhere I knew that you would be here. And you are, so I'm sorry." She knew she wasn't really making too much sense, but she saw the light in Mouth's eyes and knew that her message had gotten across.

"I'm sorry too," he exclaimed happily. This is what he had been hoping, waiting for. Mouth hugged her and took her hand, then walked a beaming Millicent back out into the waiting room.

* * *

The whole of the waiting room brightened when Mouth and Millicent came out, hand in hand, beaming. Everyone sitting there realized the reason for their happiness, and the couple hastened embarrassedly to sit back in their seats next to Nathan and Haley.

Haley just gave them an understanding smile, but Nathan leaned across his wife and tapped Mouth on the shoulder. "Good job, man," he said, nodding, "It's good to see something come out of tonight." Mouth laughed.

This time Haley looked up. "Three things, actually." She looked to Peyton, who had made up with Brooke, then Karen and Andy, who sat across the room with Lily in their laps.

"That's true. Wow, what's with all the apologies and reunions tonight?" Nathan mused to Haley, laughing for the first time tonight. Haley smiled as well. Even though the situation was grave, and scary, she still marveled in the fact that everyone was together, and there was so much love.

"I guess everyone just needs to feel sane for tonight," she said in agreement. Haley glanced over to Jamie, who was sitting with Skills and Rachel. They seemed like a family, almost. Rachel had her head thrown back, a wide grin on her face, laughing at something Jamie had just said. Skills was chuckling as well. Wordlessly, she got up and walked over to the three.

"So what did she do then, Jame?" Rachel was asking.

"Well, Aunt Brooke was kissing Uncle Lucas in the guest room, and she was acting all funny. Then Uncle Lucas said something that made her mad, and she didn't kiss him for a few minutes, but they were laying on the bed and talking. Luke was rubbing her leg, then Uncle Skills came upstairs and yelled."

Rachel leaned back, laughing again, and Skills grimaced. "Oh, I remember that. All you guys at the party set me up so that I would walk in on Brooke and Lucas on Haley's birthday."

Jamie nodded eagerly. "And then, Aunty Brooke—"

"Ok, bigears," Haley interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think Aunty Brooke wants you telling all of her secrets."

"Oh momma," Jamie groaned, as if Haley was being ridiculous, "Rachel just wanted to know the funny stuff Brooke did with Uncle Lucas. I was making her laugh."

Haley snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure you were."

Rachel laughed again and stood up to talk to Haley. Jamie started babbling to Skills about how his daddy was the best basketball player in the world. Skills looked very offended.

"Crazy night, huh?" Rachel asked, looking around at everyone.

Haley murmured a quiet agreement, losing herself in space again. "Yeah," she finally said aloud, "Everything seems different."

"Mm-hmm. Too bad it wasn't a party, then you could throw a drink in my face, or something. At least that would be the same." Rachel shrugged. She knew that Haley was hurting right now, and she was trying to cheer Haley's bleak demeanor.

It worked. Haley gave a small laugh, rolling her eyes. After a moment, she said, "I really am sorry about all that stuff. Most of the time you knew me or had drinks flying in your face, I was pregnant and hormonal, but that's not really an excuse."

"It's ok. That stuff pretty much happened to me at every high school party I went to. No big deal." She shrugged, glancing around the waiting room. "Well, except the part about Nathan. I deserved that one."

"Yeah, it was justified," agreed Haley.

The hushed tones of the people in the room melded together in the background, one indiscernible Frankenstein mass made up of different conversations. Rachel watched a doctor walk by in the long silence between her and Haley.

"God, this place is like a funeral home."

The smile melted of Haley's face, and she grimaced as she remembered her dream from earlier. "Yeah, don't say funeral." She ran a hand through her short brown hair.

Just then, the same doctor that walked by came up to them and cleared his throat to get Haley's attention. Rachel turned to her one last time. "Well, it looks like you're up, tutor girl. Are you going to be ok?" Her brown eyes were serious.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," said Haley dismissively, waving a hand. "Don't corrupt my son, ok?" she gave a nervous laugh, obviously trying to calm down to talk to the doctor. "Thanks, Rachel." Rachel easily read her surprised tone: Haley was mildly stunned that Rachel was so caring.

"There's more to me than my good looks. You're just lucky I showed you." The redhead gave Haley an encouraging pat on the shoulder, pushing her slightly towards the doctor. Then she sat down with Skills again.

"You ok, Rachel?" He asked concernedly. He balanced Jamie on one knee.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Thanks, Skills."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." He gave a quick wink.

A few feet away, Haley stood completely alone with the doctor. "Mrs. Scott?" The doctor standing in front of her looked different than the rest. He was old, for one. But he had kinder eyes, softer, grayer, than the hard steel of the other doctors around. He watched Haley with a sad understanding as she nervously pushed her hair back again.

"Yes?" For some reason, Haley felt the strangest sense of dread, just by the way he said her name. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she stood resolutely. God, she wished Nathan were right here next to her. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. It was the same as her nightmare: the doctor, the situation, all of it.

"You can see him now."

* * *

The very first sensation Lucas felt when he opened his eyes was strange. There was a warm pressure up the left side of his body, but it was oddly comforting. At first, he just laid there, not registering anything about his environment, just the darkness and a sense of complete peace.

But after a few minutes, the world lost its hazy dream state; everything suddenly felt more real. Regaining a modicum of control over his mind and body, Lucas looked down.

Brooke was curled up next to him, asleep with her head over his heart and one arm placed protectively across his body. Her brown hair looked life a fan, splayed over her back. He smiled, watching her chest rise and fall and the pulsing vein in the porcelain skin of her exposed neck. With seeing her, his mind snapped into clarity and he realized what he was doing here. The fight. Ugh, that had been a mistake.

Not jumping in for her, he would do that any day, but allowing the guy to get the better of him.

As soon as Lucas remembered what had happened, the pain hit. It was a deep, dull, throbbing pain that crushed his body, strongest in his chest. He grimaced, his mind swimming in confusion once more. The room was dark, but the sterile walls and floor still shone. He dimly registered the fact that he was in a hospital, on a bed with stiff, starched sheets. The girl in his arms shifted slightly.

But wait: surely, if Brooke was in here, everyone else would be too? There weren't any doctors either, and Lucas couldn't hear anything outside. So why was only Brooke in his room? Glancing at the window on the door, he found his answer.

There was a paper sign on the door, and the lights shining from outside let him read the letters backwards. "_Do not disturb, no visitors_." Lucas looked down at the brunette in his arms, and saw the white hospital wristband on the arm that she had draped across his body, and he put two and two together: Brooke had snuck out of her room, and into his.

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with a rush of gratitude for his pretty girl, his Brooke, and he smiled. Lucas planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

Her eyelids fluttered slightly, having been awakened by the small movement. Lucas grinned wider as her hazel orbs drank him in.

"Lucas?" she whispered, still sleepy. Her eyes were half-closed. Brooke scooted closer to him, curling her head into his neck and lying back down.

"Mm-hm."

"Are you ok?" The cautious question was not unexpected, and Lucas paused for a moment before answering.

"If you'll lay here with me, I'll be fine."

Her sigh of relief came out of the darkness. "Thank god," she murmured, and he felt her lips press his in a long, mournful kiss.

"I promise, I'll be fine," he repeated, feeling her fall onto the pillow next to him. "So, good morning, or night, or whatever the hell time it is in this place."

"I think its morning. At least, it was about three-thirty A.M. when I came in here."

This brought another smile to his face. "You snuck out." It wasn't a question, really.

He felt her shrug. "I didn't want you to wake up alone," she said. Lucas smiled at the sweet sincerity of her voice. The spoke quietly, for the velvety darkness made them feel alone together.

"I'm glad you're here," he finally decided, "It makes everything tolerable. Without you, I'd be suffering right now. But I can't even feel it." As if on cue, the crushing pressure in his chest lessened hugely. They traded a long glance, and then Lucas said, more rationally, "You—you're not hurt anywhere, right?"

Brooke held up her bandaged hand. "I'm fine, I'm fine, just a cut. You're ok, you sure?" Her breath hitched, and Lucas saw the anxiousness in her eyes. She put her hand on his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. Her fingers moved delicately over the rest of his face, and she winced with sympathy pains as she traced the bruise on his eye and the cut on his lip.

"I'm fine, pretty girl. I promise." He hugged her tighter again, to reassure his girlfriend, and Brooke released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"I was scared," she confessed without any prompting. "I was in the ambulance, with you, and the EMT's kept telling me you would be ok, that you were going to be fine, but I didn't believe them, because you weren't waking up. I knew they were lying, because whenever they thought I wasn't looking I could see the fear in their eyes as they did CPR or whatever. I was so helpless; all I could do was sit and wait, while the life flowed out of you. I couldn't help you, I couldn't do anything." Brooke buried her head in his shoulder again, as if she was ashamed. Lucas rubbed her back, and he felt the wetness on her cheeks.

Lucas lifted her chin so that he could see her. "Hey, hey, like I said, I'm ok. I'm here now, we both are. No more tears." He obligingly wiped a tear away, delicately fingering her smooth skin. "No more crying, because I'm ok and I always will be."

Brooke gave a sort of sob-laugh combination, wiping the fresh tears that had jumped to her eyes. "Look, here we are and the guy in the hospital bed is comforting me." Regaining her composure with a smile, she looked at him again. "You saved me, Lucas, you know that? Even if it was a stupid, boneheaded thing to do, you jumped into that fight for me. You rescued me."

He ran one finger over her left hand that laid on his chest. "I promised I would."

For a few minutes, all was silent. Lucas and Brooke were at peace in this warm, comfortable safety. Outside, the world didn't matter. Time was frozen, and it was only them. The velvety darkness enveloped the couple on the bed, wrapping them in silence. Lucas traced each of Brooke's fingers again and again, as if he was looking for something to say.

Finally, he spoke up. "So, you're not mad at me, right?" he asked tentatively. Brooke's eyes remained closed, and she kept her left hand over his heart and her head in the crook of his neck.

"Mad?" she replied sleepily. "Actually, I'm beyond furious. I just think murder in a hospital is redundant."

For the first time, Lucas laughed out loud, enjoying the refreshing feeling, even though it hurt his chest and face. The sound blew away the hazy fog that surrounded his brain. She smiled as well, showing the famous Brooke Davis dimples for the first time tonight. She accepted Lucas's kiss on the forehead.

Then there were hurried footsteps in the hall, and Lucas and Brooke had an instants warning before all hell broke loose.

The door burst open, and over a dozen people spilled in. Brooke jumped in shock, and Lucas held an arm around her waist protectively. Haley, Nathan, Jamie, Karen, Andy, Lily, Rachel, Mouth, Skills, Millicent, Peyton, and Derek all piled in, along a few doctors.

There was chaos for several minutes.

"_Lucas!"_

"Haley?"

"Uncle Lucas, Aunt Brooke!"

"Rachel, what are you doing—"

"Ms. Davis, where have you been!"

"What's wrong, tutorwife?"

"Mom, I'm fine…"

"Are you ok?"

"What happened? Nathan?"

"Oh my gosh…"

The couple on the bed remained quiet, and eventually the dust settled and the room calmed. Brooke, naturally, was the first to speak.

"Hey, everybody," her tone was somewhat embarrassed, "I was just giving Lucas here some CPR…" There was a small murmur of nervous laughter in the otherwise quiet room.

Jamie elbowed his way up to the bedside and put his little hands on the rails. He seemed to be the most at ease. "Aunt Brooke, what's CPR?" Everyone smiled, including the three or four doctors who had come in. The doctors moved about, understanding the crowd and therefore allowing it before they ran their tests.

Brooke looked from Jamie to Haley with a kinked eyebrow. She gave Haley an unholy smile. "Well, it's what your parents do after you're asleep, and then they go upstairs…"

"Oh, haha, THAT'S enough," Haley cut in sarcastically, giving Brooke a fake glare, much to everyone's amusement. Brooke responded with a 'bring it on' look: a smirk and raised eyebrow. Haley stuck her tongue out.

It seemed that seeing Lucas alive and considerably well had lightened everybody's mood; if anything, it was complete nervous relief. Karen, laughing shakily, made her way to the opposite side of the bed and pulled Lucas into a hug. Brooke moved off slightly, giving the family their space. Lily came over as well, and Andy put a hand on Karen's back. Lucas pulled his younger sister into his lap and kissed her on top of her head.

"But really, Luke, you're ok?" Mouth asked kindly after Karen and Andy had let him go. Lucas grinned.

"I'm _fine_," he insisted, for what he knew would not be the last time tonight. The group relaxed a little.

"That's good," Nathan said. He seemed to be the calmest, most confident adult of the group, and his tall figure stood resolutely in the back. "Haley had a nightmare about you dying and nearly threw up; thank god you didn't actually drop, man, because they would have had to give her a room here." Haley just rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly on the chest as she accepted his one arm hug apology.

"Ok, folks," came the deep, commanding voice of the lead doctor, "We're allowing visitors this late, or rather, early, because this is a special case. But, we need to run some tests now, so we need everyone to clear out for a few minutes and let us do our jobs, then I promise you can come back in. C'mon, let's go." He motioned everyone towards the door and they filed out slowly, still talking seriously. The doctor looked back to Brooke on the bed, who was watching him with an angelic look on her face. "You too Miss Davis."

Brooke pouted and made to get up, but Lucas grabbed her hand. "She's staying," he said firmly, but the doctor looked dubious. "She was a part of this, she should be here." Seeing his determined face, the doctor relented.

"Ok, but you'll have to get off the bed, Ms. Davis." Lucas kept hold of her hand, as if it was his last lifeline, like he needed to hold on to her. Brooke pulled the chair close to the bedside.

Lucas underwent a series of checks: his blood pressure was taken, he had some blood drawn, and the doctors checked his eyes. Then, they had him lift each limb to make sure his nerves and muscles were working, and he was asked to read a paragraph to check his coherency. Eventually, the doctor made his final notes on the clipboard.

"Well, you certainly seemed to have bounced back, Mr. Scott. Your vitals are strong, and you are definitely stable. However, we would like to talk to you about how this how situation came about."

Brooke's hand tightened on Lucas's.

"Mr. Scott, I heard your friends tell you about Ventricular Tachycardia while they were in here. I'd like to tell you that it's not a chronic disease, nor hereditary; it's just a name for a one-time attack or condition or episode. It's simply extreme heart palpitations caused by outside influences on your body and you were just at a higher risk because of your HCM. If the right steps are taken, none of this should ever happen again."

"What can I do then?" asked Lucas blandly.

The doctor studied him. "Lucas, you need to take you HCM medication. If you are going to play basketball or go on runs, you have to take it. It was obvious from test results obtained while you were unconscious as well as testimonies from your family that you haven't been." Lucas looked at Brooke questioningly, and she shrugged and shook her head.

"I just thought that if Lucas wasn't playing, then he would be fine," Brooke said, looking back at the doctor intently. Lucas nodded slightly, focusing on the edge of the bed.

"As long as Lucas's heart rate is up, he must take those pills, regardless of whether it's the world championship basketball game or a highly competitive game of poker." The doctor took a deep breath, and when he next spoke, his tone had become much more friendly and positive. "Now, other than that, you should be fine. Of course, we will keep you for a few days because the most vulnerable time is right after something like this. Because your vitals are strong, I should think that you'll be back to your normal life very soon. Just keep taking those meds, ok Luke?"

Lucas agreed and nodded. He retightened his grip on Brooke's hand, and she stroked his skin with her thumb. One by one, the doctors said goodbye and left, allowing the others outside to come back in. The moment they reentered, the somber mood disappeared, and everyone was smiling again. Their smiles looked somewhat false, Lucas thought, and he realized what they were thinking.

"For the hundredth time, I'm going to be ok! Officially this time!" he announced in exasperation, and everyone grinned. Lucas fell back onto the pillows, and Brooke sat with him again.

Another hour of talking and laughing found everyone lounging in the room. Lily and Jamie had climbed up into the bed with Lucas and Brooke, and both kids were sound asleep. Karen and Andy sat on the foot of the bed, Rachel reclined on the counter, and everyone else relaxed in chairs. What a sight they all were, at five AM, a baker's dozen of people crammed into a hospital room, everyone half-asleep, splayed across doctor's chairs and beds and countertops: It was hard to keep from laughing.

"Sooo," Nathan said, "I vote Haley gets everyone coffee and donuts!" He turned the swivel chair to face her, grinning.

Haley shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever, buddy, that money comes out of your wallet," she yawned.

Seeing the brunette yawn made about half the other people yawn as well. Rachel hopped off the counter. "I vote that we realize Brooke and Lucas are going to be fine, go home and get some sleep, then come back here when we aren't zombies."

"I second the motion," Millicent said, standing up. Instinctively, Mouth followed suit.

Sleepy murmurs of agreement echoed around the room. Everyone gradually stood up, going to the bed to give Brooke and Lucas a hug, as if they were leaving a Christmas party. Karen, who had become much livelier since Lucas had woken up and declared himself fine, was one of the last out of the room. After hugging Lucas, she said, "I'll come back in a few hours, and bring you guys some real food, ok? Karen's Café secret recipes, I promise." She gave them each a kiss.

"Thanks, Karen," Brooke said. Karen smiled back at her and Lucas as she reached the door. She gave a little wave, then switched off the light and left.

They were alone again, at last, in the darkness. Lucas fell back onto the pillows, then pulled Brooke down until she was resting on his shoulder again.

It didn't take long until they were both on the verge of falling asleep. Both Lucas and Brooke had gone through a lot in the twelve hours since their date, and the exhaustion was physically pressing on them. Closing their eyes seemed to be the best feeling in the world at that moment.

Lucas's voice came one last time out of the darkness. "You know how you said I rescued you?"

"Yeah…"

He took a breath and smiled. "Well, you rescued me back, just by being here tonight, staying with me. You have no idea how much I healed when I woke up and saw you there. You rescued me, pretty girl."

"…I promised I would."

* * *

_You know I can't kill off Lucas ;P (At least not yet) Like a lot of people said, he is kinda important to Bl. But kudos to the people who called it and hoped that it was a nightmare of Haley's, I hope I'm not THAT predictable. Anyways, thatnks for reading, and review please!_


	24. Chapter 24

_Merry Christmas everyone! I know this is a weird time to be updating but I haven't for a while and just figured "What the hell."_

_So this chapter is more laid back, kind of a space between big events. Little bit slower, but it will definitely speed up. So read and review!_

_Flashbacks in italics._

* * *

Morning filtered through the kitchen windows, the early spring sun casting a glow over the patchwork family of three. They sat around the table, the young girl chomping happily on her cereal, and the two adults drinking their coffee together. He watched the scene for a moment through the glass kitchen door, smiling contentedly, before opening it sheepishly and alerting them to his presence.

Lily hit Lucas first, nearly bowling him over in her leap into her brother's arms. Karen came in a close second, with Andy slightly behind her. Lucas shifted Lily into one arm and took his mom in a hug with the other. He acknowledged Andy with a shake of his head and a smile. Brooke sidled into the kitchen behind Lucas, giving the family their moment.

It was the second Friday since Brooke and Lucas's Saturday night date; he had spent nearly two weeks in the hospital for observation. His family and Brooke had been in every day, while Nathan and Haley had dropped in every few days. Everyone else had seen him at least once or twice after the first night, including Rachel and even Millicent with Mouth. It had gotten to the point where doctors and secretaries could put names to faces.

"_You're a pretty big part of everyone's lives, Luke," _Skills had said, _"Almost as important as me." _

Lucas grinned again, remembering Skills' words and his other attempts at making Lucas laugh. Karen pulled away from the hug and looked up at her son.

"Hi Mom."

Returning home after his long, boring stint in the hospital felt good; returning home with Brooke at his side and his family there waiting for him had to be one of the best feelings in the world. Lucas had always loved the feeling of comfort and warmth and safety in his family, his heart, his home.

Karen smacked him.

"Lucas Eugene Scott, don't you ever neglect to take your medication ever again, you hear me!" Karen bellowed into his face. Lucas brought his hand to his cheek in a daze, still taking in what happened. An angry red handprint was already forming.

"Mom, I'm sorry—"

"You scared us. And I swear, if I ever find that you haven't been taking your medication again, I'll—"

Lucas interrupted. "The slap was enough, Mom. Don't worry."

"Good," Karen said, falling into his arms once more. She gave him a reluctant, relieved smile, but there was still anger simmering under the surface. "I didn't want to have to do it again."

* * *

It wasn't much later that they were all sitting together again. Brooke nuzzled her lips around a second cup of coffee, completely spent from the past week. Lucas supported her head on his shoulder. Across the table, Andy had his arm around Karen, mirroring the younger couple. Lucas had known about them as a couple for a few days; he thought back to when he had first found out.

_It was Tuesday, a few days after his…incident. Andy and Karen sat together across the room from his bed, talking in low murmurs. Lily sat on the bed with Lucas, giggling with Brooke. Lucas watched them, thoroughly entertained by his girlfriend and younger sister's antics; Lily was just like a younger version of the older brunette. Brooke was just getting to the part in the story where she "jumped to the front of the stage, not even caring anymore, and started doing the robot."_

"_Lucas," begged Lily, "Can I be a cheerleader when I grow up?" She looked at him with endearing eyes, while Lucas gave Brooke a 'You've corrupted her' look. She beamed._

_Lucas had looked back at his younger sister. "What, you don't want to be a writer?"_

_Lily shook her head. Lucas sighed._

"_Fine, I'll let you, just as long as you stay away from all those boys who'll be chasing after you, ok?" Lily nodded eagerly, promising._

"_Yeah," Brooke put in, "You don't want to end up like me, with some loser for a boyfriend." Lucas opened his mouth to protest; Brooke bit her tongue playfully and subdued him by putting a hand on his chest._

_Just then, Karen and Andy stood up together, looking resolute and determined. Decided. Brooke threw them a quick glance, then back at Lucas. He barely caught her fleeting glimpse before Brooke picked up Lily and climbed off the bed._

"_C'mon, Lily, I'll go buy you a snack." The older brunette led the younger one out the door, barely responding to Lily's questions about Brooke's boyfriends. Lucas watched them go with a smile on his face, before his eyes slid towards the two adults in the room. The mood became more serious, for some reason._

"_Are you guys alright?" Lucas leaned back onto the pillows, his gaze flicking back and forth between their faces, waiting for an answer._

_Karen tapped the edge of the metal rail of his bed. "Actually, Andy and I are… fine, Lucas. We're together." It came out a lot blunter than it had sounded in her mind._

"_Like…Together, together?" His brow furrowed. "Like me and Brooke?"_

_But other than polite curiosity, Karen could detect nothing different about his tone of voice, no hostility, no shock. She breathed a hidden sigh of relief. "Yes," Andy said, "I love your mom. And, look, I know I'm not Keith—"_

_Lucas interrupted. "Andy, I'm fine with you and my mom being together. For me to be against my mom being happy because the person she's with isn't Keith would be selfish, and lately, I've been trying to appreciate what I have more." He looked towards the door involuntarily. Like Brooke. "So, you don't need my blessing or anything. But, if you really want it, it's fine with me if you two are together."_

_Andy simply put his arm around Karen's shoulder, beaming as any man would._

* * *

When Karen went into her room after breakfast, Lucas followed her. It was a few minutes after ten; Andy was outside taking a business call, Brooke was getting dressed in her room, and Lily was playing with a doll dressed in a cheerleader outfit. It had been a while since Lucas had had a long heart-to-heart with his mom, and he figured now was the best time for one.

"Hey, mom, I—" He stopped short.

It was really the last thing he expected to see, especially now. At the foot of Karen's bed, there were four bags, packed and zipped closed. He recognized them as his mom's and sister's, and noticed that the room seemed much barer than usual.

"Are you going somewhere?" asked Lucas blankly, already knowing the answer. Karen looked at him in the mirror and laid her hands on the counter pensively.

"Andy and I, we're together now. He was talking the other day about how much he missed traveling with me, and I suddenly realized I missed it too."

Lucas sat on the edge of the bed. "So you and Andy and Lily are leaving again? Where?"

"Yes." She smiled. "We'll be stopping in New Zealand, then continuing on to Europe. I miss it, Lucas, and Lily was practically raised abroad. We are going to travel for another year or so, until she is old enough to start kindergarten."

"When are you leaving?"

"Possibly as soon as tomorrow." Karen came out of the bathroom, and seeing the slightly pained look on Lucas face, added, "We wanted to see you coach your first playoff game tonight." A smile graced her older features, one echoed on Lucas's face.

It came as no surprise to him, really. Ever since the failed wedding Lucas had seen the look in his mom's eyes, how badly she wanted to tour the world again. He had almost been expecting an announcement of this kind ever since he found out she was with Andy.

Karen's voice took a considerably lighter tone. "Smile, my boy, you and Brooke will get the house to yourselves! And I can get Lily away from Dan, and we can be happy again. Trust me, this is for the best. It'll work out, and we will be back in less than a year."

* * *

"So, my mom is traveling again." Lucas laid his head on the backrest of the chair in the kitchen, waiting for Brooke's reaction. It was mid-morning, and she was using the relatively quiet time to sketch out a few more designs. She had been telling Lucas over the past two weeks how she had been falling behind.

Brooke put down the pencil. Biting her tongue, she said, "I know. Karen told me a few days after they got back together. She just said that she wanted to tell you herself, and made me promise not to say anything." She gave Lucas an apologetic smile and shrug. Lucas laughed.

"Never thought I'd see the day when my mom is telling secrets to my girlfriend over me," he said, grinning at Brooke. She giggled as well.

"Your mom likes me better Luke; deal with it." She stuck her tongue out. "And the good part is, now we get the house to ourselves." Her voice lowered, grew raspier. Brooke draped an arm over his shoulder and drew Lucas closer.

After a moment of consideration, Lucas admitted, "That is pretty good." He leaned in and kissed her gently.

"Yeah." She paused. "Except for when I spend the night at Peyton's. Then you'll be all alone while we watch old 80's movies until three am."

"So you guys are really friends again?"

Brooke nodded.

"_So you and Peyton weren't ripping each other's throats out today," he casually observed, poking at some Chinese food. Brooke sat across from him; they were the only two in the hospital room._

"_Actually," she said, "We're not ripping each other's throats out at all; Peyton apologized, and I apologized to her."_

"_So you're friends again?"_

_Brooke nodded. "You two are stuck with me." He rolled his eyes at her self-deprecating humor and popped a piece of spicy chicken in his mouth._

"_It seems the cheerleaders are back again," Lucas said sagely. There was a knock at the door._

"_Coach?" Q's soft voice came from the hallway. "You busy?"_

_Quentin Fields entered the room cautiously, as if afraid that his tall, well-built frame might break something. He seemed almost comically out of place with his Raven's warm-up on._

_A dozen other guys followed him inside, and soon Lucas's bed was surrounded by his high school basketball team. They all muttered small greetings. Brooke stood up and made her way towards the door._

"_Well Boyfriend," she said, "You've heard from the cheerleaders, now I guess it's time for the basketball team. I'll be back in a while." Brooke strolled out the door, completely at ease._

"_Can't I just keep the cheerleader?" Luca called after her, and her laughter could be heard in the hallway. A few of the guys grinned. Q stepped forward._

"_Well, well," he greeted, shaking his head, "You can't go one pick-up game without dropping?" He smirked at his blunt hello._

_Lucas shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, I kicked three guys asses for insulting my girlfriend. We all got thrown out, and my heart basically malfunctioned."_

"_Right," Tyler, the second string point guard said, "If that's what you want us to believe." The rest laughed, but Lucas had been expecting this of his team. Q continued on._

"_So look, Coach Scott. We got our first playoff game in a week, and we know that you'll probably be close to another heart attack." He motioned to Tyler, and the boy ducked out the door, "So we decided we'd make it easy on you until then." Tyler came back in, rolling an electric motorized scooter for older people. "This way, you can keep up with us as we're running. We know you're getting on in years." Quentin grinned a winning smile, almost like a salesman. The team behind him broke out in a fit of laughter, and Lucas grimaced. He suddenly felt remorseful for all the stuff Nathan had pulled on Whitey back in high school._

"_Very clever, Quentin." Lucas grabbed his phone from the table beside him. "But, I think that I won't have much of a problem keeping up with you, considering how tired you are all going to be during your running." He said this very casually, pressing buttons on his phone while he talked. The enjoyment of the team gradually faded to silence. "Extra running, I mean." He held up the phone, showing a text message to Nathan._

_**Extra laps for them today.**_

_The room erupted in a sea of protests and groans. They immediately turned on Q, berating him for his idea. Lucas grinned, deaf to it all and folding his hands behind his head. "See you at practice," he said enthusiastically. He was the subject of many glares as the team filed out of the room. If his team was going to mess with him, he was going to mess with them. Lucas put the phone back on the table as soon as they were gone, deleting the unsent message with a smirk._

* * *

Derek had gone. A plane roared down the runway and she somehow knew it was his, but Peyton didn't look back as she strode through the mechanical sliding doors into the airport parking lot beyond. It was a test of the new her.

Her brother had come into her life to save her at the last minute, the opportune time. He had picked Peyton up off the ground where she had been perfectly content to lay, dusted her off, and stood her back on her feet to let her do it herself. Derek had forced her to mend her almost destroyed friendships with everyone; he had given her the opportunity to fix herself while he acted as a spotter. Now that he was gone, to look back for him would be taking a step back. Peyton would miss him, and she wouldn't see her brother for a while, but this new independence felt good.

Her phone started ringing as she got into the car. Peyton grabbed it and threw her purse in the backseat. "Hello?"

"So what's this, my boss only talks to me when I call her?"

"That's a little presumptuous, Mia, I haven't even decided if I'm going to talk to you yet." But a wide smile broke over Peyton's face, and she could picture Mia Catalano rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.

"Of course you do. Everyone wants to talk to me."

The phone was put on speaker, and Peyton laid it down next to her as she pulled out of the parking lot. "Right. Forgot about that one." This time, she was the one who good-naturedly rolled her eyes. "So you were in Dallas a few days ago, right?" she added, checking the calendar in her car.

"Yeah. Funny place. There was this guy who snuck backstage after the show and had me autograph his forehead," she laughed, high and clear, "Dallas is kinda weird."

Peyton pulled onto the freeway. "Nice," she said, and checked the calendar again. "And you're on your way to Houston, right?"

"Yep, we're on the bus right now." Mia paused. "Did that one guy I told you about ever come up your way?"

"What— Oh, the musician from Atlanta. Nope, I haven't signed anyone for a while."

It was true: there had been maybe one or two small bands that she had signed and recorded, but they hadn't produced anything yet. And the influx of new bands had gradually slowed over the past few weeks. She suddenly remembered the complete lack of demo CD's that she had received that day. Usually she got at least two or three. This was becoming a problem.

Then a possible solution presented itself to her.

"I could sign Haley," she said, almost as if realizing something. "I know Haley has been wanting to sing again…"

Mia considered it silently. "You could…" she decided slowly, then beamed. "Peyton, you totally could, that's a great idea! Haley would be great for this record."

Her enthusiasm cemented Peyton's plan. "Alright, I'll talk to her when I get home."

"Speaking of, how is everyone else in Tree Hill? What about that one guy, the one that you were trying to get back together with?"

Peyton bit her tongue. "Everyone is pretty good." She left out the part about the recent hospital visits and returns of psychotic fake brothers. "As for Lucas and I… it never worked out. He's with Brooke."

Peyton was surprised to hear Mia breathe sigh of relief. "_Good._ That guy was way too much like you, it was freaky. And he squinted _way _too much. I picture you with someone lighter and less demanding. Like… and artist, or something."

"An artist?" Peyton gave a dubious snort.

"Or… or a musician!" Mia was having a field day with this. She was clearly very bored on the bus. "Yeah, like Pete Wentz!"

Peyton dropped the CD she was holding, staring at the phone. Had she been walking, she would have stopped in her tracks. She snorted again, managing to keep her voice very level as she held back laughter. "Pete's married, and besides, we didn't work out in high school. He wanted me to jetset around the world with him, and I wasn't ready for that."

It was Mia's turn to fall silent. After a moment, "Sure, Peyt, if that's what you believe. Imaginary Pete…"

Laughing, Peyton remembered that weekend in the woods, as well as her friends' nickname for Pete before he showed up. "Whatever. It's true, anyone can vouch for me." She took the exit off the freeway.

The conversation turned to other things as Peyton made her way through downtown Tree Hill. Mia's second album. Haley's participation in the label. The hot poolboy at the Embassy Suites in Fort Lauderdale. Mia's other fan encounter stories.

Eventually, Peyton rolled into the driveway of her and Brooke's shared house. Peyton said goodbye to Mia. "Alright, so I'll definitely call you after I talk to Haley about it. But anyways, I gotta go get ready, Brooke is dragging me to this basketball game tonight. I'll talk to you later."

* * *

"Dude, this place is a mess!" Skills threw piles of clothes off chairs and countertops, frantically searching for the Raven's playbook.

"Stating the obvious," Mouth muttered, tinkering with his video camera in the corner of the room.

Fergie and Junk casually played video games on the couch, unconcerned. "You never had a problem with it before," Junk said. Fergie shrugged.

"It's our first playoff game tonight, man! I gotta have this ready!" He went to throw a pizza box away, thought better of it, then started digging fruitlessly in the trash can. Junk pressed a button to shoot a three on screen as the buzzer sounded; Fergie groaned and dropped the controller.

"Did you check in the bathroom?" Mouth asked him, standing up and grabbing the camera. Millicent appeared in the doorway of their apartment.

Skills jumped up from the trash can. "Oh yeah!" He took off towards the bathroom.

"Aren't you guys ready yet?" asked Millicent, checking her watch. "The game starts soon."

"Skills has to find the playbook," Junk replied, grabbing a soda from the fridge. "Why're you bringing that thing?" he added, nodding at the small news camera in Mouth's hands.

"Uh, I'm supposed to interview Lucas tonight after the game."

"Got it!" Skills reappeared in the doorway, clutching the blue binder and interrupting further conversation. He looked at Mouth and Millicent, who were the only ones coming to the game. "You guys ready?" They nodded. "Ok, let's go. First game."

* * *

"First game. How're your nerves?" Andy shut the refrigerator and handed Lucas a soda. Lucas took it, barely glancing at the can but keeping his eyes level on Andy's face.

"Shaky." He shrugged. The two men were waiting in the kitchen for Karen, Lily, and Brooke to get ready so they could go to the game together. It was almost six-thirty, and the game would start at eight. "I suppose I'm a little nervous about the game as well."

Andy let out a small chuckle, looking down. "I'll take the best care possible of them. You know that, Lucas, I need you to know that. Trust me." Lucas nodded.

"I'm just afraid of two of the most important girls in my life being on the other side of the world from me."

He understood Lucas' misgivings; Andy was much the same way. They always felt the need to protect the people around them as best they could. Not being able to do that and leaving the job in someone else's hands must have been difficult.

"Karen and I just need time to work things out, and this would be the best way to do it. We both love the world and love traveling. We also decided that since you and Brooke are so close, it would be best if we give you space and the world to yourselves."

Lucas smiled, showing his reluctant acceptance of Andy's plan. Just then, his mom and sister came out. Lily had little blue and white bows in her hair, no doubt a collaborative effort of both Brooke and Karen. She looked adorable.

"Is Brooke not ready yet?" Karen asked when they got to the table. "We should be going; it's almost six thirty."

Lucas leaned in the chair so that he could look down the hall towards his bedroom. "Brooke!" he called, "Pretty Girl, we're going to be late!"

Her voice was muffled when it came back: "Calm down, Broody, they can't start the game without you anyways."

Rolling his eyes back to his mom, Lucas smirked. "She's one speed only."

But soon enough Brooke came out, wearing a deep blue shirt and white earrings. "Step up from my cheerleader uniform, right?"

"In a way, yeah. But I liked the cheerleader uniform." Lucas winked and took her hand. "Everyone ready? We gotta go."

* * *

"Nate, are you ready? We have to go!"

Haley dropped the grocery bags on the floor in the kitchen, and threw the mail on the counter. It spread out like a fan across the granite, stopping to lay forgotten and barely glanced at. She waited impatiently at the bottom of the stairs.

"Not really, Haley, I'm still trying to figure out what tie matches!"

Jamie skipped down the stairs, wearing his usual Raven's jersey and missing-tooth smile. The anticipation and excitement were heavy in the air. Haley gave him a knowing look.

"He's having some trouble, isn't he?" she sighed sorrowfully. Jamie giggled and nodded. "Nate, which shirt are you wearing?" Haley called up the stairs, rolling her eyes at Jamie.

"The white one—"

"Blue jacket?"

"Black."

"Blue tie then, the solid blue silk one."

Jamie looked at his mom. "You have to help him with everything, don't you momma?"

"Oh yeah," she laughed just as Nathan came down. "You're tie looks nice," she added to her husband. Together, the three of them went into the living room before leaving. Haley went into the kitchen and Nathan and Jamie could hear the rustling of plastic bags.

"Daddy?" Jamie asked curiously.

"Yeah, buddy?" Nathan strapped on the fancy silver watch Haley had gotten him for his 22nd birthday.

"Why is your jersey up in the gym?"

"Because I was good," Nathan sighed. The mention of his retired jersey made him so nostalgic for those days. He would give almost anything to play again.

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "You mean because you are?"

Nathan laughed, the nostalgia vanishing when he looked at his son. "Yeah, because I am, I guess."

Haley came in just as Nathan stood up from the couch. "The tie looks good," she said absently. She tucked something, a small, thin box, into her purse then looked at Jamie. "You ready for the first game?"

"Let's go!"

* * *

It was crunch time. Down by two. Eight seconds left. Bear Creek turnover, Raven's timeout. The pounding rhythm of hundreds of feet stomping in the stands, the bass line for the chants and cheers. Urgent-looking coaches, players looking for that last bit of grit left in them to battle through. _This is what it comes down to_, Nathan thought, _these are the make or break moments in life._

_I love this._

The Raven's huddled in a tight circle after the referee's first whistle. Lucas addressed them with intensity. "Ok, you guys know the play. I can't coach you anymore. This isn't about me, this is about you, and your heart. Your spirit as a team, playing basketball. This is up to you. So go out there and _decide _that you want this. Fight for it."

"Hands in, guys," Nathan said, tying it up. "Fight on three."

"_123 fight!"_

Everyone seemed so different. The team wasn't the same group of guys who had presented Lucas with the joke scooter last week; this was a team, a team of panting, dying guys ready push as hard as they could for the next eight seconds. Lucas wasn't the same sweet, tender guy he always was with Brooke and his family; now he was hot blooded and remote, almost like a living statue on the sidelines.

The ref blew his whistle. Tyler threw the ball in to Frank. Jace cut hard to the strong side. Six seconds. Shaun screened at the top of the key, freeing up Q on the left. Four seconds. The ball passed hands like clockwork, zooming in a crazy design across the court. Finally, Q got it in his hands with a foot of free space. Two seconds. He put it up like he had every day of his life.

To anyone outside, it may have sounded like a small explosion had taken place. The Whitey Durham Field House erupted in cheers as the net swished and the ball fell through.

"Ravens win!" Mouth bellowed into the camera, amidst the general euphoria. "Ravens win their first playoff game for the first time since four years ago, when coaches Lucas Scott, Nathan Scott, and Antwon Skills Taylor played for the Ravens themselves! Amazing!"

Nathan was swept into the tide of students who stormed the court, flocking to the team to celebrate. He looked up into the stands; Haley was sitting there, beaming at him. He smiled and waved back. Jamie was jumping up and down next to her, his words drowned out but his mouth forming "Ravens win! Ravens win!" Brooke sat with them, and Peyton, Karen, Andy, Lily and Millicent were there as well. Nathan was just wondering where Mouth was when he heard the reporter's voice from behind him.

"So Luke, do you think your team can make it to the State Championship this season?" Mouth had to shout to be head of the shouts and cheers.

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, but the joy on his face was evident. "You know Mouth, we were kinda the underdogs from the beginning, but we have so much heart and will, and I believe this game is evidence of that. I think that the guys have a great chance of making it to the State Championship."

"Great. And now, off the record…."

_Nice generic answer, Luke, _Nathan thought to himself, laughing. But he didn't hear the rest as he walked up the stands towards his wife and son. Jamie saw him and took a flying leap into his father's arms

"Raven's win!" his son shouted with joy, sounding like Mouth. Nathan balanced himself on a seat of the bleacher and hugged Jamie. They really had won; they were moving on to the quarter finals. They could do this. Nathan beamed and looked around for his wife.

"I can't believe you're really leaving again," Haley was telling Karen in mild disbelief. Karen sat in the center of the circle of Millicent, Peyton, Brooke and Haley. The girls, aside from Brooke, had obviously just found out about Karen's plans.

Karen nodded. "We're leaving tomorrow, Andy and I just decided." Four heads swiveled towards Andy who was sitting inconspicuously off to the side. He looked up when he heard his name.

"So where're you going to go?" Peyton asked, turning back to Karen.

"We'll stop in New Zealand and see Andy's mom, then onward to Europe. We're thinking Italy again."

"I would love to go to Italy," Brooke mused. The girls all seemed to be daydreaming, lost in their traveling future. They still sat huddled on the rapidly emptying bleachers, with Andy off to one side and Nathan and Jamie standing awkwardly in front of them. Nathan finally cleared his throat, and Peyton jumped back to life.

"Need something, Nate?" she asked blithely. She looked up at him with smiling eyes, and five other heads swiveled around to face him.

"Uh, I was just wondering if I could have my wife back? I don't want that idea of Europe to get back into her head."

Haley spoke up. "You know you loved it though." She tilted her head onto her shoulder, speaking sweetly.

"I think it's time for us to go too," Karen interjected, after a pause. She stood up. The gym was growing quieter as the revelers left, bringing a more somber attitude.

"Aunty Karen, will you send me more postcards? I need a lot to cover my wall," Jamie said from his father's arms. This caused Karen to laugh, and everyone gradually eased themselves into standing positions. Lucas and Mouth came up the bleachers towards them.

"Everyone leaving?" Mouth asked, rubbing his hands together. The whole gym was empty, save for their small group. Gradually fading cheers and shouts echoed from outside. There were murmurs of assent and everyone slowly started moving down to floor level.

Andy picked up Lily, ruffling her blue and white bows. Karen walked with them. Haley quietly teased Nathan, getting Jamie to join in. Mouth started telling Millicent about the interview, dropping his voice low near the end. Lucas looped a hand around Brooke's waist and kissed the side of her head. Peyton came down last, pulling on her jacket; she stood alone and slightly behind everyone else as they headed to the door in a group. Brooke looked over her shoulder.

"So what'd you think of the game?" Lucas asked his girlfriend. Brooke's eyes slid back to his face.

"Good. First night back, and your heart is still going slow."

"Well, that can be easily remedied," he said in an undertone into her ear. Brooke grinned coyly.

"Oh, you wish, Broody." She adopted a more serious tone. "But it was good. The team played like you guys used to." Her hazel eyes sparkled, but Brooke seemed more subdued as she glanced over her shoulder yet again. "Luke… give me a second, ok?" She pulled away from him and walked back to Peyton.

"How're you doing, P. Sawyer?" She held out a hand. Lucas looked on for a moment, then fell into step with his mom and family, smiling.

After Brooke had forgiven Peyton, they had fallen right back into their lives together again as if nothing had happened between them. While Lucas was in the hospital and Brooke felt lonely at night, she was at their old shared house. They would talk for hours, just like they had when they were younger. Neither friend had said anything about Lucas, accepting an unspoken truce. After Brooke had reconciled with her friend, everyone else did too, it seemed; all the girls would talk and laugh together as if Brooke and Peyton's major fight had been nothing but a mild inconvenience, a bump in the road.

Peyton took Brooke's offered hand. "I'm fine, B. Davis." The brunette rolled her eyes and pulled her friend along.

"That's what you said before you did cocaine. I'm not taking your word for it yet."

Up ahead, Lucas pulled away from his mom. He slowed up, and waited for Brooke and Peyton. When they got to him, he slid his arm over Brooke's opposite shoulder. Brooke put one hand around his waist, and kept the other tightly folded into Peyton's fingers. Lucas greeted the blonde with a dip of the head and a small "Hey, Peyt." The three walked together, Brooke in the center keeping them close.

Outside, under the lights in the hallway seemed to be where everyone was parting ways. Karen was hugging Haley; Jamie was chasing Lily; Mouth and Millicent had bidden everyone goodbye and were now halfway to his car. Peyton, Lucas, and Brooke made their way back into the group, where Brooke reluctantly let her friend's hand go.

"Are you going to be ok tonight, Peyton?" She seemed almost anxious, like she was guilty for not being there for her friend after Derek had gone. Brooke barely glanced at Lucas as he tactfully excused himself to let them talk.

"Brooke," Peyton groaned, rolling her eyes. "I love you for caring, but I've got a tub of ice cream and 'Donnie Darko' waiting for me at home. I'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning. Now, go be with your boyfriend." She gave Brooke a wink and encouraging push. The brunette stuck her tongue out and couldn't help but smile at Peyton. _We'll be ok_, she knew, as she went back and laid her head on Lucas's supportive shoulder to watch Peyton's black convertible roar to life. They headed in the opposite direction after a moment.

* * *

"Damn, some game," Haley announced, throwing her jacket over the arm of the couch and flipping her hair back slightly. "What'd you think, buddy?" she asked Jamie.

"Q scored!" he shouted, pretty much summing the game up. Haley laughed as Jamie went to get his basketball and Nathan came into the room.

His eyes followed Jamie upstairs. "Jeez, where'd my fans go?"

Haley moved to the kitchen counter, flipping through envelopes. "Truthfully, I think I cheered louder for Quentin than you," she admitted, glancing up for just a moment. Nathan looked very betrayed, but then he smirked.

"I'm pretty sure," he said, moving forward to encircle her waist and pull her towards him. She didn't look up again. "I'm pretty sure that you still cheer for me. That I can still get you to cheer for me." He gave her a little kiss on the neck.

Her face fell.

"What's wrong?" Nate obviously felt something was off in his game; Haley seemed to be in a trance. "Hales?" He noticed a letter in her hand.

"These," she said, staring at something particularly interesting on the blank wall, "are Jamie's HCM results."

"His—" Since a few days after the test, Nathan had kept the thoughts of Jamie's possible HCM smothered in the back of his mind. He had buried them, but they were suddenly brought back to life just at the sight of the white envelope. "Open it." The fear showed in his voice. Haley, on some level, found it funny that champion Nathan Scott, who'd suffered racecar and motorcycle accidents, who had been in countless fights and had had as many black eyes, turned to jelly at the possibility of his son having HCM.

And she loved him even more for it.

But her face was blank as she broke the seal on the envelope. Her eyes scanned the lines. Nathan searched her eyes, but nothing could be seen but emptiness. Nothing from the brown orbs he usually read so well. His heart sank.

Her eyes focused at the bottom of the page for a long time without reading. She remained perfectly still and silent. Nathan could have shouted. Finally, she sighed. "This is going to cost a lot of money, Nate."

His heart sunk even more, if possible.

"We'll need to take good care of him; we don't want to be at the doctor's office or hospital every other week." Her voice was somber, and even though she tried not to, her eyes kept sliding back to his face. "We need to make sure he never gets injured, because our son is going to be a basketball player. He's going to be great."

He lifted his bowed head, mildly confused, questioning her with his searching gaze. Haley's face broke into a smile.

"He's fine, Nathan."

* * *

_About that Mia /Peyton conversation, no offense to anyone from Dallas :P_

_So anyways, check back soon for the next chapter! Big stuff is coming. Also, I have a new Bl fic (M-rated for a reason) that's out, you can see it on my profile. **Himerus and Eros**, it's called. Check it out!_

_Hope you enjoyed, and **review** please!_


	25. Chapter 25

_Next chapter! Writing has been taking a while, because of combination school and writers block. But I'm in a creative writing class that reall halps and for some reason I get all my writing done while the teacher is giving lectures, so it should get better. :D_

_Also, I'm still working on my other fic, Himerus and Eros, so that chapter should be up soon!_

_This chapter is dedicated to all the Blers on the spoiler thread at Fanforum and all the Blers on the BL thread at the CW site. Keep the faith!_

_--Chandler_

* * *

The shrill blast of the phone ringing cut through the silence of the Naley house, pulling Nathan from the rumpled covers of his bed and the hazy clouds of his semi-consciousness. He and Haley had been up late last night, and just wanted to sleep in on this early, sunny Sunday morning.

But as Nathan was more awake than she was at the moment, he decided to be the gentlemen and grab the phone before it could wake up his wife. The mattress barely whispered as he climbed out of bed and slipped across the room into the hallway.

"Hello?"

"Geez, you sound hungover."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Nathan fired back, grinning. "I'm talking to the girl that has a bar in her house and works in a club."

"And I'm talking to the guy who was in a wheelchair for four months, and at the bottom of a bottle for most of it."

Nathan sucked in a breath. "Ooh, low blow, Peyt," he laughed, acting hurt. "But really, I wasn't drinking last night, just stayed up a little late."

Peyton grinned on the other end of the line. "The joys of fatherhood?"

"More like the joys of having Haley for a wife."

"Ugh! Nate, ok! I don't need to know that stuff: I believe you." Nathan laughed silently; he could imagine Peyton in her office, grimacing. He leaned against the wall in the hallway as she continued, "So where is your wife this morning? Or do I not want to know?"

Rolling his eyes, Nathan told her, "She's in bed, just a second." He tilted his head so that he could see the room, looking for his wife. Haley was just sitting up in their cream white bed, her hair messy, sun glinting in her brown eyes as it streamed across the bed and her face. She stretched and yawned, and Nathan smiled.

"She's just waking up. Do you need to talk to her?"

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry to steal her so early for a few minutes."

"Ok, whatever, Sawyer. But you owe me one though," he said as he strode back into the bedroom towards Haley, "Because she looks so pretty right now."

"Cheeseball," he heard Peyton mutter on the phone, and this time he knew she was rolling her eyes. Nathan handed Haley the phone.

"It's Peyton," he said simply. Haley took it, waking up and seeming much clearer now. Nathan turned and stepped into the bathroom to run some water over his face.

Haley put the phone to her ear. "Peyton?" she yawned.

"So Haley: how's your music life?"

Haley absently climbed out of bed. "It's good, I guess…" The blunt and seemingly random question struck her off guard, and she shrugged.

"Well, how about we make it better?" The excitement in Peyton's voice as obvious. "You told me Friday night that you wrote a song. How about you come record it today?"

"Uh, sure," said a taken-aback Haley. She shrugged, like she was more confused about Peyton's excitement than actually recording; she hadn't really given much thought to Peyton's request before she accepted. "When should I come over?"

"Is three good? I have to go over to Clothes over Bros this afternoon to help Brooke, because apparently she has to have me critique it every time she makes a new article of clothing, which is pretty much all the time." Peyton gave a little laugh. "Also, because I'm sure you need the morning to wake up after your late night."

Haley turned and gave a laughing Nathan a simmering glare, then told Peyton "Three's great."

"Good," Peyton said, "I'll see you then. And kick your husband's ass for me, will you?"

"Definitely. See you later." Haley hung up the phone with a beep, delighted as old memories of recording washed over her. She really thought about the fact that she had a new song, she could get back into this, and she was overjoyed.

"What was that about?" Nathan asked from the bathroom that adjoined their master bedroom. Haley leaned against the doorframe where she had finished her conversation with Peyton for a moment, thinking.

"Peyton wants me to record again," she finally said with a hesitant smile, as if she was considering how odd the situation seemed.

Nathan laughed. "That's great Hales. You wrote a song a few days ago, right? The day Luke went to the hospital?" They hadn't talked about it much, considering everything that had happened in those two weeks.

"Yeah," she said, and gave him a hug. Nathan squeezed her shoulder, a gesture of congratulations. "I told Peyton the other night that I had, but I didn't realize she was going to make me record it." Suddenly, she kicked herself; how did Haley know that she could still sing? All the fears and worries from a few weeks ago came back in a rush, but she didn't voice any of them.

Nathan smiled, ignorant of her worries. "Well, that's good that she is. It's about time that you started singing again, especially if I'm living my dream."

"Thanks, Nate." She felt a little better when he said that, and she even smiled. "So what will you do today without me?"

Nathan went back into their bedroom and began digging through drawers. "I'll probably go hangout with Lucas. I'll bring Jamie with me, because he hasn't hung out with his Uncle for a while."

"Sounds good," Haley said, nodding. "I'll leave at around two thirty, and be back by five. Deal?"

"Fine with me. Let's go get Jamie."

* * *

He shut the door, slamming it louder than he had intended it to; the sharp crack echoed around the empty house, driving home the fact that they were, indeed, alone. His eyes followed Brooke in front of him as she strode lazily across the living room and collapsed onto the couch with a sigh that Lucas considered a bit over dramatic. She stretched her arms over her head like a cat and yawned wide, then looked up at him.

"What's the matter," he asked; a small, teasing smile played on his lips, "Seven AM too early for the princess?"

"Usually, yeah," Brooke laughed in response without a second thought, "But I could make an exception today. Especially for you mom, Lily and Andy."

It was ten o'clock; Brooke and Lucas had just gotten home after a hellish airport trip to drop off Karen, Andy, and Lily. It had all started this morning. First, Karen had overslept by a half hour, which led to everyone else getting up a few minutes late as well. After realizing that the plane left at nine, there had been a mad rush to get all the bags together and everyone get ready. Lucas, in all the chaos, had tripped over Lily's stuffed animal in the hallway, flown forward with limbs flailing, and landed face first; for a good five minutes Lily and even Brooke couldn't stop laughing.

After all the preparations had been made, Andy had made the unfortunate discovery that Lucas's mustang was too small to fit four adults and one child plus enough bags for an extended stay overseas. So, Brooke had called Rachel to bring her SUV, which she would return later at Clothes over Bros. That had taken another ten minutes for the car to arrive, and by the time they arrived at the airport it was almost eight o'clock. They hurried crazily through the checkpoints and as they waited for Karen, Andy and Lily, Brooke took to silently bemoaning her makeupless, hapless bun appearance, so Lucas had put an arm around her to pass the time.

Despite the morning madness, it had been a cheery departure. Karen was genuinely happy to be traveling again; Lily realized what all the bags and plans and checks meant, and her brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Andy was just glad to be with Karen and Lily. Lucas had been a bit more subdued on the ride and during the security checks, but as they waited he seemed to brood less and smile more.

Brooke echoed her boyfriend's attitude all through the airport and most of the ride home. It was only when they got into downtown Tree Hill did Brooke's smile begin to fade into a tired, worn face.

Pulling himself back into the present, Lucas watched Brooke yawn and stretch out on the couch for a moment in the living room. He stayed rooted to the rug in the doorway and thought about the scene. He had grown up in this house, slept on that green couch sometimes, reclined comfortably back to watch a basketball game on those same cushions when he was twelve. Now, here he was, gazing at the girl he was madly in love with, one of the closest things he had to family, smile at him and lay back on that same couch.

He moved forward to her without conscious thought, smiling.

She just looked so pretty and alluring and charming that Lucas had to collapse next to her on the seat, just to take Brooke in his arms and curl her body into his. He drew her close instinctually. The TV in front of them didn't go on, the phone didn't ring, nothing. There was only calm. The mid-morning sun never shined on this part of the house, so the whole room was cast in a dusky sort of shadow. The early morning rays of sun that had hit the living room earlier had left the whole room warm and lazy; everything seemed to move slower for them. Brooke felt so close to him in the stillness.

"So they're really gone," Lucas mused aloud, finally filling the silence. Brooke's quiet murmur of assent made him continue: "Now it's just us." There was the merest hint of… playfulness, sweetness, love in those last words. He said them like he was truly happy.

"It's nice," Brooke said into his chest. With a quick glance down, Lucas saw that her eyes were still closed, her cheek against his chest. "But I guess Peyton's sort of right: people—"

Lucas cut her off before Brooke could finish what seemed to be Tree Hill's catch phrase. "Well, you're still here, right?" he asked, giving her shoulder a small nudge and looking down again. "Or is there something you need to tell me?" he teased.

This time, Brooke sat up to look him in the eye, mildly impatient but smiling. "Yeah, I'm still here. I always will be. But it kinda sucks when it's your real family that's leaving, instead of your girlfriend."

She laid her head back on his shoulder again, and the silence resumed weighing down the air.

For a long moment, he didn't reply. Then finally he took a deep breath and said, "I love you, you know that?" It was more of a declaration, a decision, than a mere statement; Lucas said it with some force and finality.

This again prompted Brooke to sit up and meet his clear, blue eyes. "I know, and I love you too." But within seconds, Brooke's face broke into a flirty, disarming grin as Lucas started laughing. "What?" she asked incredulously. For a second, after she had replied that she loved him, Lucas had looked like he was about to kiss her. Then his cerulean eyes shined and he gave a quiet sort of laugh.

"Luke, what'd I do?" Brooke asked again, raising an eyebrow. She was laughing as well, though it was more of a nervous, unsure laugh.

He motioned with one hand, like he was waving away her questions. By now, Brooke had pulled slightly away from him, so that they were sitting more next to each other than with each other and they could make eye contact.

"Nothing," he laughed, "Nothing. It's just that Lily made me promise to say that to you as often as I can, because she has decided that I don't say it enough." Lucas shrugged, smiling wide as he waited for her thoughts. Brooke just fell back onto the pillows, eyes closed and a hand pressed over her face.

"It seems like a lot of five year olds are invested in our relationship," she finally said, past the hand that covered her eyes.

Lucas laughed again. "I would say so. We just have to find Jenny Jaglieski now." This brought a bright smile from his girlfriend, though he could barely see it because her hands were pressed against her face.

But a few seconds later, when she pulled her hands away from her face, Brooke's eyes had become tired and stressed. Lucas knew she should be stressed; the line for her store, though she had designed the whole thing before Luke's accident, had been put on hold while he was in the hospital and was now overdue. There had been many times this past week when Lucas would wake up and open his eyes in the middle of the night to see her sitting up or pacing silently. He openly worried about her, but Brooke played it off effortlessly.

"Yeah," she said, more absently than she had been. Now, she leaned back onto Lucas's shoulder, snuggling against his chest to make him put his arm around her. She curled up like a cat in his arms.

"You seem distracted," Lucas observed quietly. "What's going on in my pretty girl's head?"

Her answer had a bit more attitude packed in it this time. "First off, your pretty girl does not like being referred to in the third person, and possessive at that, like Chris Keller's plaything." Lucas gave a pained grimace, but Brooke didn't see his face and continued on, albeit with a softer tone: "But your pretty girl is thinking about all the million things she has to do today." She sounded angry and frustrated and tired, but Lucas had to admit it turned him on a little bit when she got heated like that. But as a good boyfriend, he pulled her tight in a comforting hug.

"What do you have to do today?" he asked, resting his chin on the top of Brooke's deep brown hair. Lucas felt her chest rise and fall in a deep sigh.

"Well, I've got the new line, which I still have to transfer from paper to real life. We're having a sale today at Clothes over Bros also, so I have to help man the store while creating my line, I have to check up with Peyton because I haven't called her, I—"

Lucas chuckled, low in his throat. It wasn't his normal laugh; this one was smoother, yet had a rather gravelly tone, like rocks sliding over one another. Brooke considered it incredibly sexy. It took her mind off the rest of the day.

"What, Lucas?" He took his chin off her head, and Brooke leaned away from his body to face him better. The chuckle died in his throat, but that half smile remained, as did the roguish blue eyes.

His answer was simple. "No, that's not what you're doing today."

"Luke, you asked what I'm doing, if you're just going to jerk me around—"

There was that little laugh again, except it was a bit stronger, and maybe a mischievous tone was a bit more pronounced. "Ok, maybe it was the right answer; but to the wrong question." He moved a little bit away from Brooke, then, using his body, Lucas gradually pushed her down until she was lying back on the couch and he was steadied over her. "Had I asked what you had _planned_, that would be fine. But I asked what you were going to _do_…"

Instead of smiling at Lucas' clever wordplay, Brooke kinked an eyebrow and bristled slightly. "Really? Ok then, Mr. Scott, if you know me and my plans so well, what _am_ I doing today?"

"You're staying in with me. We're going to take advantage of this new alone time." It was more of a decision made for her than a suggestion. Lucas' lips brushed over the exposed skin of her neck, an almost imperceptible touch that left her skin tingling.

"But—"

"You don't think I can persuade you?"

His question held a challenging tone, a dare. Brooke opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she was going to say was lost in his blonde hair as Lucas began leaving sloppy kisses over her neck and jaw line. One calloused hand rubbed the denim of the jeans on Brooke's upper thigh, moving in slow circles; he moved his lips slowly away from the side of her neck, to take her red lips. Brooke pressed her body back up against his on impulse. It felt so natural. She inhaled deeply, a happy sigh, with a hint of longing. Lucas's other hand slipped under her shirt and moved across her stomach, his hands like ice leaving trails of fire behind; her whole body was crackling with energy, and above her she knew Lucas was feeling much the same by the way his hands moved.

The plans for her day were almost out the window. How Brooke would love to lay here all day, curled up in this hazy dream with Lucas, kissing softly for hours in the warm shadows. No store, no line, nothing, nothing but him and her.

And as soon as she thought about everything she had to do today, Brooke realized that she had to leave him and step out of this dreamland. She was on the knife edge of giving in, but she knew she shouldn't. Couldn't.

Sometimes she hated reason and rationale.

"Luke," she whispered, because the warm, hazy atmosphere made her feel like she should, "Lucas."

At first, it seemed like he didn't hear her, but the side of Brooke's head was pressed against his again, and she was whispering directly into his ear. She knew Lucas just didn't want to listen; hell, neither did she.

"Lucas," she mumbled again, finally forcing him reluctantly away with both hands by pushing gently on his chest. They sat up straight on the couch again. "Luke, your pretty girl is too tired to play right now, you know that," she said. He was smiling good-naturedly, laughing even, at their impromptu make out, but Brooke could detect the cleverly hidden traces of disappointment in his clear blue eyes. "I'm sorry; I know I'd be too stressed. I wouldn't even be able to enjoy it—"

"You wouldn't?" he teased, with a raise of his eyebrow and another impish smile. He was getting far too good at those.

"Ok, I would," she relented, granting him a smile, "But not right now."

Lucas nodded and smiled again, and there was that flash of disappointment in his eyes. "That's fine, Brooke."

"Broody," Brooke laughed softly, shaking her head. She now sat on her knees on the couch, sideways to face him. "Broody, look; I know that the last time we had sex was probably high school. This is the perfect opportunity, but it's not right yet. And yeah, I know, that sounds really hypocritical coming from Brooke Davis, but trust me. Do you?"

He gave her a look as if she had just asked him whether the sky was blue or water was wet. "Of course I trust you, Brooke. It's fine, like I said." Like he was brushing away a fly, Lucas shrugged and waved a hand. He became much more cordial and business-like. "So, you heading off now?"

Brooke kinked one perfect eyebrow, leaning in closer to his face. Her voice had dropped; now it was low and raspy, enticing and drawing him in. "Wait a second, you think you're getting off that easy?" At Lucas's hesitant nod, Brooke scoffed in that same voice. "Oh, no, no, no, boyfriend. I had to cut our little make out here short, but tonight, if you're good, maybe we'll take advantage of this big empty house. We'll have the night to ourselves, and I'll be done with all my work stuff. Maybe you can even give me a backrub to relieve any left over stress?" She cocked her head, eyes sparkling mischievously and her lips forming a little pout. Lucas wasn't the only one who was skilled at those roguish smiles.

Of course, he was still a little let down. But that promise had his heart racing, more than ever before. He leaned into Brooke, accepting her light goodbye kiss reluctantly. With another hug and one last long whiff of the intoxicating scent that rolled off Brooke's skin, Lucas let her go. Brooke floated off the couch and grabbed her purse. Like he had from the doorway, he watched her intently. He remained sitting on the couch.

Brooke was a half step out the door when she heard Lucas call from the doorway. "Brooke." She turned back. "You are my family, and I do love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

The newsroom was unusually quiet. It was break time, and Mouth thought maybe there was a party going on in the lounge room or something, because everyone was gone. The big office space looked abandoned. It didn't really matter, though, because the news wasn't on again until five anyways, so no one really needed to be working right now.

He was working though. Granted, it couldn't exactly be considered work, but instead of relaxing with his other co-workers Mouth instead was sitting in front of a computer screen, trying his best to figure out the new video-editing software. He supposed that counted for something.

"McFadden!" A voice barked, and Mouth instantly heard the 'Darth Vader' tune go off in his head for some reason.

"Yes, sir?" His boss had stormed into the room, obviously mad at something or someone. Mouth tried to think of something he could be in trouble for.

The boss stopped in front of his desk. "McFadden, what are you doing? We don't have anything until five, and you're just the sports guy."

Mouth glanced quickly at his screen then back at his boss. Perhaps he wasn't in trouble. "It's just a side project, Mr. Goldsmith. I needed the program. That's ok, right?"

"You know I'm not paying you extra for this, right? No overtime." Mr. Goldsmith had a cunning business mind, though sadly that was all it was good for.

Mouth nodded again. "Yeah, sir, I know. It's a personal project, like I said. I know I'm not getting overtime for it." In fact, the project wasn't even going to benefit him at all, not in the least. It was just an idea that could really help out a friend.

"Ok," his boss grunted. "You're on at seven tonight, right?"

"Yessir," Mouth replied coolly.

Goldsmith smacked the top of the computer lightly, smiling. He was a big man, tall and imposing, with a perpetually angry brow and silver hair, broad shoulders and a thick neck. He seemed old fashioned in some respects, like the way he dealt with employees and subordinates as a boss, but overall he was a tolerable boss.

"Good job, McFadden. I'm glad to see you've gotten out of that rut you were in a few weeks ago."

That was credit Millie; their breakup was the cause of his 'rut' and their reunion of sorts got him back on track. Mouth simply nodded at his boss.

"Good job," Goldsmith repeated, "Keep up the good work." He moved off at once, strolling across the rest of the office and once stopping to say something to a lone coworker.

Mouth just put his head phones back on and clicked on the next video file from his disk.

* * *

"I think we should shorten that skirt."

"Well, you're Rachel. You think every skirt should be shorter. We need more black to balance it out."

"Yeah, of course. Why don't we just grab some black paint and dump it on there? We can get some for your room too, while we're at it."

Brooke exchanged a quick, exasperated look with Millicent from across C/B. Brooke and Millie had been the quieter of the four in Clothes over Bros over the past three hours, contenting themselves instead with listening to Peyton and Rachel fire sarcastic remarks back and forth as they 'helped' with the clothes making.

Brooke was hunched over, holding needles between her lips and meticulously arranging fabrics on a mannequin in the center of the store. Some of her hair had escaped its messy bun and now hung in wisps around her face, but she paid no mind to it as she concentrated on the clothes. Millicent helped a customer on one side of the store but glanced over occasionally.

Rachel and Peyton both sat on the purple couch that Brooke had arranged earlier so they could watch and critique her designs. Instead, their critique had devolved into a sort of contest between them to see who could get the other angrier faster. Even the way they were sitting seemed to demonstrate their sarcasm.

Millicent directed the woman to the checkout area, the only real movement in the store. The woman, tall and blonde and a bit heavyset, barely said anything, murmuring "Thank you," when Millie handed her the change and receipt. Perhaps it was the quiet tension in the air that made her not want to talk. She was the only customer, and after she walked out Millie let loose a long breath.

"Well, that's the last customer, and the only one that we've had since the rush this morning," she announced.

Rachel looked around the silent store. "It seems like no one ever is in here," she muttered, but everyone ignored her.

"I think we should take a little break," Brooke said from the mannequin, "We can close up the store for a while and work on this without any customers right now. Sound good?"

The afternoon sun streaked into the little boutique, making everyone both tired and unbearably hot. There were mutters of lazy agreements; everyone would rather just relax and work on the clothes than have the possibility of a random customer coming in. It wasn't that they disliked the customers or the business, they just had to get this done. Peyton rose from the purple couch, went to the door and flipped the sign to "Closed."

It hadn't been ten seconds before the bell above the door rang and someone come in. Brooke couldn't see who it was because she was bent almost double with her head at the stomach of the mannequin and her back to the door. But did hear Millicent suck in a breath, Rachel sigh dramatically and sarcastically, and Peyton mutter something. But she ignored the strange reactions of her friends, and told the customer without turning around, "I'm sorry, we just closed, but we'll be open again in a few hours."

Then came the last voice she wanted to hear. "I know, honey: unlike some I can actually read signs."

With a sinking heart, Brooke closed her eyes. She did not need this right now. What business did Victoria have in Tree Hill?

Trying to buy time before dealing with the headache that was her mother, Brooke took the pins from between her lips and stuck them in the bodice of the dress she was working on. Victoria never took her eyes off her daughter; she waited expectantly for Brooke to turn around. Peyton, Rachel, and Millicent watched the mother and daughter silently.

Brooke too a deep breath and turned around, releasing it with an angry sigh. She regarded her mother resentfully for a moment, then finally asked, "So why are you here?"

Victoria walked carefully away from the door, strolling around the model and examining it like an appraiser would an antique. She pushed her expensive black sunglasses onto the top of her head. After a moment of tension in the store, Victoria looked back to her daughter and said, "I just wanted to see the designs, the new line. See how you're doing."

"I'm fine," Brooke said, ignoring whatever warmth was in her mother's voice. "Were you the one who talked to the board about me? About the unproductiveness of this store and the lack of a spring line?" She wasn't in the mood to deal with any of her mother's crap.

Victoria tore her eyes away from the outfit and looked up at Brooke. "Honey, I was just looking out for you. Of course I talked to the board; I don't want this company going under. You are still my daughter, after all."

"I blame that on bad karma," Brooke said, crossing her arms across her chest. "But you're not involved with the company any more. In fact, you don't even need to be here." Taking a step back, Brooke revealed the door as if it was her mother's cue to leave. Her face didn't change at all.

Victoria raised one eyebrow in a dubious look; in that moment Peyton, Rachel, and Millicent, who had been sitting quietly, couldn't help but see the small similarities between Brooke and her mother.

"I'm fine, Brooke, really," Victoria assured Brooke with a toothy white smile. Brooke gave her a warm, false smile back, then her let face drop into seriousness.

"Well, we're closed, so I can make you leave. You don't work here, you're not involved with the company. You're a customer."

That seemed to anger Victoria the most; her jaw twitched slightly. Peyton glanced down and noticed that her knuckles were getting whiter. Victoria stared at Brooke for a long moment, then she took a few composing breaths and looked around the store. Her eyes alighted on Millicent, Rachel, and Peyton, who were watching her with varying degrees of anger and hate on their faces. Victoria pointed at them and looked back at Brooke.

"What about these dead weights? You can't refuse service to me and not them."

For the first time since Victoria had come in, Brooke smiled. Even though it wasn't a truly warm B. Davis smile, her dimples showed, and she cocked one eyebrow. "Well, they work for the company."

Brooke pointed at Millicent, who was standing near the cash register. "Employee," she said. She nodded at Rachel, relaxing on the green couch. "Employee." One side of Rachel's mouth quirked and her eyes sparkled.

Then Brooke met Peyton's eyes and faltered for a second.

"Investor," Peyton announced with a grin. She pulled out her wallet and threw a five dollar bill towards Brooke. Millicent and Rachel tried desperately not to laugh; they weren't succeeding.

Brooke picked it up and pocketed it, saying, "Thank you, P. Sawyer, you now own two shares in C over B." She winked at Peyton, then turned her gaze back to Victoria. "You can go now."

Victoria ground her teeth, and it looked like she would like nothing better than to start swearing at her daughter. Instead, she turned and moved very stiffly towards the door without replying. Brooke watched her go, and as she put a hand on the door knob to leave, she stopped and gave her daughter one last look.

"So how's Lucas, Brooke? I'm not really surprised, it look's like New York is coming true."

"Lucas is fine," Brooke replied tightly. Her hazel eyes flicked toward Peyton for a fraction of a second, but she didn't think anyone noticed.

Enough is enough, Rachel finally decided. She stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest in her trademark Rachel way. It was the first ream movement she'd made since Victoria had entered the store.

"Vicky, just leave," Rachel rolled her eyes, "You've gone past threatening to annoying. You're not achieving anything in Tree Hill; go back to New York." She was getting pissed now, and she had straightened up to her full five eight model stature.

Victoria was not impressed, it seemed; she glared at Rachel for a moment, then her eyes flicked to Brooke, who was standing just like Rachel. Peyton still leaned on the arm of the couch, but her arms were crossed. Victoria seemed to decide something, finally.

She rolled her eyes and, in a huff, pushed out the door and left.

Brooke held her breath for some reason until her mother's Mercedes had pulled away from the sidewalk; then she let out a sigh and turned back around to the mannequin, but this time it was Peyton's voice that broke the silence.

"What happened in New York, Brooke? With Lucas?"

Rachel knew everything that had happened. Millicent knew, to an extent, for Brooke had told her the story of the night she had gone into business with Victoria. Both shut their mouths now, and watched Brooke and Peyton with a touch of nervousness. Peyton paid no attention to either of them, but kept her eyes level on Brooke's back.

"Brooke?" she prompted, her eyebrows going up. Brooke still focused on the mannequin, though she hadn't moved at all. She seemed to be deciding the best way to tell the story. Finally, the brunette turned around and looked at her best friend. Peyton waited expectantly.

"I—" she started, unsure of herself. She took a deep breath then let everything go at once. "After Lucas proposed to you in LA he flew to New York for his book deal. I met up with him at a bar, and we went back home to my place. Not for sex, or anything," Brooke added quickly, seeing the look on Peyton's face, then continued, "It was just to show him everything. Then he told me what had happened, and he was showed me the ring. He was showing me how he proposed when my mom walked in and thought it was a real proposal. Luke and I left, and went out to the bars again.

"I was looking at the ring when some idiot bartender thought he had just proposed to me, and announced it. Then he said we got free drinks, so we…just went along with it all night at different bars for drinks, and then we got a free carriage ride back to his hotel where he kinda kissed me. Then I…left," she finished lamely. "I'm sorry."

During the whole story, Peyton's face seemed to have dropped five degrees. It had become stony, impassive. She still leaned on the couch, and just stared at Brooke for a long while.

Rachel and Millicent's eyes darted back and forth between the brunette and the blonde like they were watching a tennis match. They occasionally made eye contact with each other, to exchange worried glances.

Finally, Peyton's phone buzzed from her pocket. "Crap," she said, snapping out of her trance. Pulling it from her pocket, she said glanced at it and said, "Well, Brooke, your mom was right for the first time in her life. Looks like New York is coming true. I gotta go now." Her voice was devoid of its usual sarcastic charm, a fact as noticeable as the elephant in the room.

Brooke stood by her mannequin, unsure of what to do; whether Peyton had rolled with the punch, or whether she was truly mad again. As usual, the blonde showed no sign of her true feelings, and for once Brooke couldn't really read her face.

Peyton busied herself with her purse; she didn't meet any of the other girls' eyes. They waited, unsure, but she didn't even say where she was rushing off to as she went out the door without a backward glance.

There was silence in the room for a moment. "Well," Rachel finally said, "Probably not the best way to let your friend know you went clubbing with her boyfriend after their failed proposal?"

Both Millicent and Brooke shot daggers at the redhead.

* * *

Jamie burst through the door of Lucas' room. "Uncle Lucas, Uncle Lucas!" He ran right to Lucas' desk, hopping eagerly at the edge.

Lucas leaned back, relieved, away from his laptop. Writing had been stalled, as usual, and Jamie had just saved him from writers block. He grinned wide at his nephew, blue eyes shining. Jamie's sudden appearances in his house had become a regular occurrence; whenever Haley would come over, she'd allow Jamie to go get his Uncle Lucas, and Lucas definitely didn't mind.

"What's up, Jimmy Jam?"

"Me and my dad wanted to hang out since Momma is working." Jamie beamed a missing-tooth smile back at his uncle. Lucas looked around for Nathan, and found him a second later as Nate arrived at the door Jamie had left open.

"He just ran right in, didn't he?" Nathan asked, rolling his eyes. But his mouth showed the famous Scott smile all three boys had. "Jamie, I told you to go see if he's home," he added, laughing at his son.

Jamie shrugged. "I didn't know if Uncle Lucas would be here or not, so I wanted to see if he was home first before I knocked."

Lucas raised one eyebrow and stared at Jamie. Nathan had much the same expression, but neither said anything. Jamie climbed into Lucas's lap, and Lucas closed his word document and shut the laptop.

"Where's Aunt Brooke?" Jamie asked.

"She had to work," Lucas sighed, a little wistfully. He left it at that, though, as Nathan closed the door and sat on the edge of Lucas's bed.

Jamie looked up at his uncle. "Like my momma? She has to work today; she's going over to Peyton's to record her singing."

Lucas's head whipped around to look at Nathan, as if for confirmation. "Haley's singing again?" he asked his younger brother. Nathan shrugged. He wore a pair of simple jeans and some athletic shirt, and Jamie's wardrobe echoed his dad's.

"Yeah, I guess," Nathan said, "Peyton called her this morning and just asked if she wanted to record today. Haley said sure."

"Wow," Lucas mused, "I'm glad."

Nathan nodded. "Me too. Anyways, I thought since Brooke was busy today and my wife is gone, we could have a guy's day. Just us three and the Playstation. And whatever food you have in your fridge. Sound good?"

Lucas heaved Jamie off his lap and set him down, then climbed stood up. Jamie went running off into the living room. "That'll be great," Lucas told Nathan, "The writing is at a standstill anyways. NBA live?"

"Let's go," Nathan replied with a smile.

Within an amazingly short amount of time later, Lucas, Nathan, and Jamie were on the couch, their fingers clicking away at the controllers in their hands and their eyes glued to the screen. Jamie was on Nathan's team, although he wasn't playing as much as commentating.

"Daddy passes out to the wing," he shouted eagerly, as a clock began to tick loudly on screen. "He goes up for the three!"

"No!" shouted Lucas, frantically, uselessly pressing buttons.

"Yes!" They bellowed. The ball floated through the digital net and Nathan and Jamie jumped from the couch and high-fived. Lucas fell backwards onto the cushions, covering his face in fake despair.

Nathan and Jamie did a little victory dance, then Nathan heaved his son over his shoulder and cheered. The whole production was basically just to razz Lucas, and father and son delighted in it. Then Jamie, upside down, saw his uncle fake glaring. "Wanna play another game, Uncle Lucas?"

Lucas changed his face back to normal, sitting up. "Nah," he said, "How about some food? I think my mom decided that I didn't eat well enough or something, because the fridge is stocked." He shrugged with a grin.

"I got it," Nathan said. He set Jamie down, and added to his son, "Why don't you go pump up Uncle Lucas's ego? He looks like he could use it." Lucas rolled his eyes, and Nathan snorted with laughter and bounded into the kitchen before Lucas could retort. Jamie jumped onto the couch with the bouncy energy of all four year-old boys.

"So, good game, huh, Uncle Lucas?"

Lucas raised one eyebrow, and Jamie's perpetual smile shined up at him.

"It was just like the playoff game!" Jamie continued happily.

"Yeah," Lucas laughed, with an almost thankful undertone as he remembered Friday night's game. He got up and switched off the videogame before busying himself with looking for the remote.

Jamie still sat on the couch. "What did you think of the game?" he asked Lucas.

At that moment, Nathan came in with a plate of food and a few sodas. "Are you guys talking about the game Friday night?" he asked, setting it down. In the meantime, Lucas found the remote and fell back onto the couch; Nathan sat down on the other side of Jamie and reached for a soda. "What did you think, Luke?"

Lucas shook his head; he grabbed a soda too and began flipping through the channels. "Truthfully, I think we scraped through. Barely."

"Me too," Nathan let out a breath, glad that Lucas felt the same way, "I don't think the guys were entirely focused that night, we need to work on that."

"It's not only that," Lucas said, contemplating for a moment, "It's like… they aren't focused, but like they're not playing for any particular reason, you know? Like they are just going through the motions; and while the motions will get them through games like that, I'm not sure they can get past tougher teams. We had a hard season. We're going to need to really work now."

Jamie sat between the brothers, looking up, his head whipping back and forth as he followed their conversation. They seemed to have forgotten him for the moment.

"I know that, Luke," Nathan laughed, shrugging and stealing the remote. "I just don't think they do."

Jamie interrupted. "Well that's what coaches are for, right?"

Nathan and Lucas both stared at him for a moment, the interested looks came over their faces. "That's right, Jimmy-Jam," Nathan said, grinning. "That's what coaches are for."

* * *

_There we go. The next chapter is just the next half of the same day as this one, and I promise there will be so much more drama. It's already forty percent written, but I have to UD Himerus and Eros before I can update this one :D_

_Thanks for reading and please review!_


	26. Chapter 26

_Another update! Haha. Originally, this chapter, the chapter before it, and the next chapter were all supposed to be together, but it was too long. Therefore, the next chapter is written out, I just have to wait until I update my next chapter of Himerus and Eros._

_Anyways, read, review, the works. Enjoy. :D_

_--Chandler_

_

* * *

_

With a bang, the door to the office at Tric flew open, and Peyton stormed inside. Her jaw was set, and she exhaled a deep, slow breath through her teeth as she paused for a fraction of a second to look around before going to her desk. Peyton had come directly from Clothes over Bros, after the whole conversation with Victoria. With another long, angry sigh, Peyton leaned on the wood table top of her desk and fumed for a moment about what had happened at the store earlier, and also what had happened four years ago in New York.

Brooke had waited all this time, four years, to tell her that she had hooked up with Lucas in New York? Well, not hooked up, exactly, but had still essentially spent the whole night and gotten drunk with him. And now Brooke tells her? After Victoria forces the conversation? Peyton shook her head and automatically looked around her office, searching for a distraction, something to do. Then, glancing into the recording studio, she immediately forgot about her troubles with Brooke. How convenient.

Haley was in the studio, sitting at the piano with her back to the door and obviously playing something. Since the room was soundproof, Peyton had had no idea that the brunette was even there. Moving slowly, Peyton stepped into the soundboard part of the studio and sat in the leather chair to watch Haley as she sung. She forgot her irritation for a moment, and just listened. It was a pretty song, and one that seemed Haley had been working on for a while. Slowly, as the song progressed, the smile on Peyton's face grew. When the song finished, Haley sat back, and Peyton leaned forward to press the talkback button with the grin still on her face.

"And you said you didn't have anything," the blonde teased. Haley jumped and threw her hands in the air, then spun on the piano bench to face Peyton.

"Wow, it's about time my boss shows up," Haley countered, getting over her shock quickly. After a second she smiled warmly. "I saw that you weren't here, then I saw the empty piano so I thought I'd sit down and play until you got here." She gave a little half-shrug, making Peyton laugh.

"Were you singing at all?"

Haley matched Peyton's smirk. "A bit. I've got the sheet music here, if you'd like it. It's the song I was talking about on Friday, at the playoff game. Want it?"

One blonde eyebrow shot up, Peyton's shock all over her face. "Damn, Haley, you wrote the music for the song too? I'd call you an overachiever, but then again, you are Haley James-Scott, tutor wife, so I kinda expect it by now." Peyton paused, and Haley took the opportunity to make a face at her. "But let's see the music. Bring it in here." Rolling her eyes, Haley hopped off the bench and grabbed the papers from the piano. Peyton spun around a bit in one of the swivel chairs by the soundboard, until a second later Haley bounded in and wordlessly handed her the sheets.

Peyton laid the sheets down on the soundboard, which had the best light of the dim room, and scanned them quickly. Behind her, Haley had changed noticeably from the calm, relaxed person she'd been while playing; she seemed more nervous, almost. She began pacing behind the chair, back and forth to the other side of the room and back again, running her hands through her hair as she waited for Peyton's opinion on the music she had written.

Finally, Peyton looked up from the papers, but she was laughing. "Haley, calm down!" she half-shouted, and Haley smiled ruefully before collapsing into the chair next to the blonde. Peyton waited, then continued, "This is really, really good, Haley. We should definitely record this." She picked the papers up and straightened them out, waiting for a response.

"Thanks," Haley replied, biting her lip instinctively.

"Why are you so panicky?" Peyton asked, throwing the music back onto the table. When Haley didn't reply, she continued, "Do you want to record this? It'll be great for you, and just what the label needs. If you want to, I would say we start recording now."

Haley, in response, took a steeling breath. "I want to record, it's just old nerves. Sorry." She flashed Peyton another apologetic smile. "But if we can record now, I'm up for it. Let's just do it."

"That's my girl," Peyton laughed, finally smiling. "Everything's set, I did it this morning. Now all we need is you. Ready?"

Another deep breath of resolve. "Ready." Then Haley jumped up, leaving no time for doubts. She was excited, ready to sing again. It'd been so long, and she missed it so much. She could be nervous later. As she made her way into the room and readied herself at the piano, Peyton sat back comfortably in the leather chair. What had happened this afternoon with Brooke was completely out of her mind now, gone; she had no time to dwell on that sort of thing. Music had always clamed her down, hadn't it? The only difference now was that it was one of her best friends playing, and Peyton was doing a lot more than simply enjoying a meaningful song. She could talk to Brooke or even Lucas tomorrow. Now, all that mattered was Haley and producing the perfect record. She settled herself deeper into the chair, proud and expectant, as the first few strains of Haley's song floated into the sound room.

* * *

With their feet up on the desk, Peyton and Haley relaxed in the airy office of Tric after they had finished recording. Peyton was messing with her laptop, and Haley was nursing a bottle of water to keep her throat relaxed and cool. In a little over an hour in the recording studio, they had recorded three initial versions of Haley's new song: one on piano, one on guitar, and one with simply Haley's voice. It was three-thirty when they finished, and they had been taking it easy, chatting casually, for the past half hour or so.

Suddenly, Peyton looked up at Haley from the computer. A decisive look had come over the blonde's face; she sat up straighter in the chair, set her jaw, and raised her chin. She looked official, almost, and very professional. For a moment, she watched Haley stare off into space, then she cleared her throat. Haley snapped to attention.

"Ok look," she said to Haley, her tone matching her businesslike attitude, "I want you to be a permanent part of this label. We'll record a CD, everything. We can talk to John in LA about him partnering with us, like we did with Mia. All the stops, everything. Want to?"

The bluntness of Peyton's voice took Haley by surprise. She paused for a second, as if to confirm what she'd heard. "What? You want me on the label?"

"Hell yeah," Peyton said, nodding vigorously, then explained, "We've been kinda lacking in the new artist department, and you have the talent to not only go far, but bring a lot of publicity to the label." Then, seeing the still-stunned look on the brunette's face, she added, "Haley, look. I saw how happy you were when you were singing, how great I know you feel because you're writing music again. I know you want this."

"But Nathan and Jamie—" Haley began, but Peyton quickly interrupted.

"You wouldn't have to go on any tours, and if you did, I could arrange them around summer vacation or basketball offseason, if you'd like." She paused and grinned, "And the label would pay for extra hotel rooms, as needed." A real smile had taken hold of Peyton now; she knew Haley well enough that she knew the brunette wouldn't be able to refuse.

As expected, a wide smile broke over Haley's face as well. "Why not?" she asked, laughing. "I'm in. I'd love to." Then she laughed again, crazily, with the giddy excitement and disbelief someone who was about to skydive and couldn't believe they were actually going to do it.

"Perfect," Peyton said, with a businesslike nod but a Peyton-like smile. She stood up to reach over and officially shake Haley's hand.

Haley laughed a little as they sat back down. "And I just sold my soul, didn't I?"

"Yep," Peyton replied happily, sticking her tongue out. The business attitude vanished in a heartbeat; now Peyton was all giddy smiles. She turned her gaze back to her computer and pressed a few mote buttons, then took a sip of her own water.

Rolling her eyes, Haley said sarcastically, "Great. And you know, there are other things you could do to get the label some publicity. Flyers, podcasts, nights at Tric, anything. I could help out, if you want, since we're working together now."

Peyton nodded, finishing off her bottle of water and tossing it into the trash can. "We should definitely look into stuff like that. We could talk to Mia too, have her advertise a bit on her tours. And we can advertise for you as well, when we get you out there."

Haley nodded, then stared contemplatively up at the ceiling. "I wonder what Nathan and Jamie will think about the whole music thing?"

With a soft click, the disc compartment of Peyton's computer opened and she popped out the disc. "Well," the blonde said, grabbing a black marker, "Play them this CD for them and then see what they think." As she spoke, she wrote something in big black letters on the surface of the CD, then handed it to Haley. Taking it, Haley read the bold letters scrawled across in Peyton's handwriting.

_Haley James-Scott. Red Bedroom Records. Single No. 1._

"_Feel This."_

For some reason, having tangible evidence of her efforts in her hand, holding _her _song, gave Haley an enormous, overwhelming sense of pride. She smiled a wide smile, biting her lip and running her fingers over the disc as Peyton searched through the desk drawers for an empty CD case.

"Here," the blonde said, finally handing her one a second later. "Go home and play Nathan and Jamie that, and tell them you're officially part of RBR." Peyton seemed just as proud and happy as Haley, as she should.

Haley took the case with an accepting smile. "Thanks, P. Sawyer." And she wasn't simply talking about the case, but about the future and the song and the solid confirmation of their hard work and what was to come. They smiled at each other for a minute, enjoying the official feeling of starting something new and amazing. "This is going to be really good," was all Haley said, and then they became simple best friends again, hanging out.

"You did good, Hales," announced Peyton, with a touch of finality. "And we're officially done for the day. I'm going home to take a shower and eat whatever I have in my fridge, and you are going to go show that CD to your husband. Deal?" She said it firmly and forcefully, almost as if she were reprimanding Haley. Haley, in turn, raised an eyebrow.

"Jeez. I really did sell my soul, huh?"

"Shut up," Peyton laughed, rolling her eyes as she rose to leave. Haley followed suit with CD held tightly in her hand. "But you're really going to share this? Because I know you, tutor girl, and you've been known to be kinda paranoid about this sort of thing. Nervous and shy, to say the least." Peyton seemed very concerned that Haley would simply put the CD away once she got home, and that wasn't something that Peyton wanted to happen. If Haley was going to a part of the label, Peyton knew she would have to get over her nerves sooner or later. And the blonde felt it her job to help Haley with that.

"I will, Peyton, trust me." They made their way down the stairs and into the parking lot, where they paused before they would go their own ways to their cars. The day was still bright and sunny out; it was only around four o'clock that Sunday afternoon.

"I trust you," Peyton assured her, nodding, "I'm positive Nathan will hear this."

"Ok, good," Haley replied. In all honesty, she had absolutely no intention of showing Nathan her song. Not any time soon, at least. It was just that Haley had gone so long without music and had talked about it but never actually done anything, that having an actual recorded CD and real song felt so alien that it would take a while getting used to again. Plus, she already had a great life with Nathan and Jamie without music, and she didn't want to take the chance of ruining anything. But she wasn't going to tell Peyton that. "I'll talk to you later, ok, P. Sawyer?"

"Sounds good. Bye, Tutor girl."

"Bye, Peyton."

* * *

"Rachel, get off the counter." Brooke's voice, though sharp, had an underlying tone of excitement that only Brooke could pull off. "You're scaring away all the customers."

Rachel lay on the counter of Clothes over Bros, holding over her face one of the latest fashion magazines that was regularly delivered to the store. She was stretched out like a cat in the sun, her head near the cash register and her feet barely dangling off the other edge of the counter. She turned her head and raised her eyebrow at Brooke's order.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure the 'Closed' sign is deterring any customers," she replied coolly, but sat up and swung her legs over the edge anyway. Brooke ignored her.

"So guess what," Brooke said, jumping up in the air a bit and beaming. She stood directly in front of Rachel, in the center of the store. It was old cheerleader Brooke, the bouncy, bubbly one from high school. Rachel could almost see the Ravens cheer uniform.

"What?" Rachel had been in state of casual half-dozing, and her eyelids felt heavy.

Millicent's voice came from the doorway. "Presenting the newest clothing line from the ever popular C over B, designed by Brooke Davis herself!" she announced, flourishing her arms like a brunette Vanna White. Brooke smiled appreciatively and gave a little nod to her friend, while Rachel sat up a little more expectantly. Millicent disappeared back into the room with another wave of her arms.

"I finished," Brooke said quickly to Rachel, looking like a little girl on Christmas. "The line's done." She gave a happy sort of wiggle.

Before Rachel could reply, Millicent came out of the back, wheeling a clothing rack with four or five dresses on it. "And here we are," Brooke said. Millicent hopped up onto the counter next to Rachel to watch the mini-fashion show while Brooke carefully removed a dress from the rack. The silver fabric of the first elegant dress almost seemed to sparkle. Brooke waved it around for a few minutes, then replaced the dress on the rack and pulled off a new one, this time a thigh-length red cocktail type dress that was definitely Brooke's type. Millicent and Rachel clapped politely.

The show went on, every few minutes Brooke wheeling out a new rack of dresses or tops or skirts; she occasionally commented on a piece or asked Rachel and Millicent what they thought about it. They always answered with praise for the clothes, and Brooke always flushed proudly. She'd designed clothes before, of course; but this was one of her few lines where she had imagined, sketched, and created every article of clothing without the help of other company designers.

As Brooke rolled the last rack into the closet, Rachel leaned back a little on the counter and let out a long, tired breath. "We finally finished the line," she said, "Through hospitals and fights and Momma Vicky, I didn't know it was going to be so much work!" The wiped the metaphorical sweat from her brow.

"Rachel," Millicent rolled her eyes, "You didn't do anything. More importantly, you've worked with Brooke for longer than I have."

"Yeah, but that was just wearing the clothes and looking hot. I'm not really up for the whole manual labor thing."

Millicent rolled her eyes again and laughed. After Millicent's reconciliation with Mouth, she had decided it was time to forgive Rachel. Since a few days after the hospital incident and Mouth and Millie's reunion of sorts, Rachel and Millicent had accepted one another and even become good friends. It was a good thing, for C/B at least; had their constant death glares and scathing remarks back and forth across the store continued, the line would have never gotten finished.

Brooke returned to the counter with a few papers and a pen in hand. "Well, it's a good thing we finished, then. No more manual labor for a while. Unless you count customers." She paused. "Or guys. But we won't get into that."

All three of the girls laughed. This was their time to hang out and just be friends, not working and with no one else watching. "So, I guess you're going to be pretty busy tonight? With Lucas, I mean," Rachel said boldly, biting her tongue and her eyes dancing; she loved calling Brooke out and watching her squirm. The little snarky conversations were a normal occurrence around this time of day.

Brooke looked up from her papers, her eyebrow kinked with just a hint of suggestiveness. She could play the game too. A half-laugh, a little shrug, an impish smirk, the quickest glance at Rachel; Brooke pretended to check her calendar and said, "Yep, I'll be pretty busy. In fact, I'll be tied up the whole night." Then her look changed from suggestive to blankly innocent as she fully met Rachel's gaze, with only her eyes sparkling, leading the redhead to make of it what she will. Millicent bit her tongue and shook her head as she counted the money in the cash register, listening but remaining quiet and holding back a smile.

The snarky reply was on the tip of Rachel's tongue, but just as she opened her mouth and leaned forward as silver car pulled up outside. All three girls stopped what they were doing and watched Mouth McFadden climb out of the car and jog up the front steps of the store.

"Well," Rachel said, thinking better of her retort to Brooke and instead leaning back with a look of smug satisfaction, "I guess Millicent will be celebrating too!"

Millicent's head snapped up. "Um, _no,_" she said with conviction, eager to not get sucked into the double-meaning conversation. "Marvin and I are just going out to dinner." Brooke and Rachel leaned onto each other's shoulders, shaking with laughter. Millicent barely resisted the urge to stick her tongue out, which was a good thing because at that moment Mouth came walking in.

"So ladies, what is underneath the clothes?" he asked in a deep, mocking voice, with one eyebrow raised.

Brooke groaned and picked her head off Rachel's shoulder from where she'd been laughing; her face was red. "Shut up, Mouth, I'm never telling you anything again." She glared, a dimpled smile on her face, and Millicent and Rachel snickered. Mouth dropped his façade and chuckled too as he walked towards the counter and took Millicent in a hug. After a moment, he turned to Rachel.

"How've you been?" he asked warmly in that Mouth way. Rachel smiled.

Even after Mouth and Millie had gotten back together at the hospital, Millicent had been guarded around Rachel; Mouth hadn't spoken to the redhead at all. It had taken a great deal of persuasion on Brooke's part to get Millie to simply talk to Rachel, for she knew that the three of them would never be able to come up with a line in time for the board if Millicent and Rachel couldn't work together. But there was a reason Millicent bore such a hard grudge against Rachel, why it was so difficult to be forgiving: Millicent had experienced the same sort of girls in high school, and thought she knew what Rachel was about. Eventually, though, they started talking again; a comment here, a compliment there, and within a few days Rachel was back to her previous status with Millicent. Then Rachel made amends with Mouth, and they were back to their old friendship. And she was fine with that.

"Hey, Mouth," Rachel replied simply with a smile.

Mouth smiled and looked towards Brooke. "And you, Brooke Davis?"

"I've been fine. I finished all the clothes!" She put her arms up, grinning like a girl in a candy shop, excitedly showing him the clean boutique.

He chuckled again, then said, "What about Lucas? With his whole heart thing?" He still had one arm wrapped around Millicent. Brooke hopped off the counter before she answered, and wandered to a shelf where she began refolding clothes with her back to the group.

"He's been ok too. Luckily, the basketball game didn't get his heart rate up too high. The doctor said he should go walking more, so Luke's been doing that lately. I've gone once or twice with him, but mostly he wants to be alone. But he's been walking and shooting around occasionally at the Rivercourt." She finished with the clothes and looked at the three again. "But nothing heavy."

"Alright, as long as he's ok," Mouth said, nodding. "And will you have him call me? I need to talk to Luke about something important."

"Sure I will, Mouth," Brooke replied, nodding as Mouth had. "But—"

Rachel interrupted. "But Brooke will be a little tied up tonight, so he'll probably get back to you tomorrow." Without hesitation, she grinned and blinked innocently at Mouth, carefully keeping her eyes averted from Brooke's simmering gaze. She knew that if she met Brooke's eyes, she'd start laughing.

"What?" Mouth laughed, confused, while Millicent grimaced and buried her head in his chest.

"Nothing," Brooke said sharply before Rachel could reply. Then, struggling for something to say under pressure, she stuttered, "I-I'll have him call you." She took a deep breath, then looked around with a fresh smile. "Anyways, are you two going to head out now, Millie?"

"Yep," she announced, finally breaking away from Mouth and going to grab her purse. "I'm officially done."

"Good," said Brooke, "Now go have fun on your date."

Mouth and Millicent said goodbye and were halfway to the door when Rachel called out, "And don't celebrate too hard!" Mouth gave her a confused look as he went out the door and Millicent gave her a death glare and made a violent slashing motion across her neck to tell Rachel to cut it out. Brooke and Rachel, both having resumed their seats on the counter, fell against each other in another fit of laughter.

It didn't take long for the two girl's breathing rates to return to normal, and soon they had resumed standard pre-closing routine. Meaning, Rachel sat on the counter, usually with some sort of smoothie or food, and watched Brooke close up the shop. Occasionally, the redhead would add in some color commentary to make things interesting and entertaining.

This seemed to be one of those afternoons. "So, Brooke," she said from her perch on the metal counter. Brooke finished refolding some shirts and looked over her shoulder, cool and businesslike from the other end of the store. "How have you and Lucas been doing lately? Besides the sex, which I know, like, isn't happening. At all."

Having geared herself up for something resembling their conversation before Mouth had walked in, Brooke was stunned by Rachel's clear, unambiguous question. It seemed to have come out of nowhere. Jaw dropping open, Brooke threw down the shirt that she had been in the process of folding and turned to Rachel. She planted one hand on her hip and scoffed derisively. "Excuse me?" she asked, kinking one eyebrow scathingly. Instead of contradicting Rachel's statement or even throwing back something as equally nasty, as any other person would have done, Brooke was simply Brooke and disdainfully said, "And how do you know it isn't happening?"

Rachel snorted, holding back laughter. "Brooke. I know because you haven't been glowing lately. At all." Brooke stiffened, ready to interrupt, but Rachel continued, "I remember back in senior year when I used to see you and Lucas walk in together at a basketball game or even into before class, and seventy-five percent of the time you would be glowing and even he would be a little flushed. It was kind of a giveaway about what had happened five minutes earlier."

Brooke rolled her eyes, but denied nothing. The small flicker of a smile even played on her lips, though she tried to hold it back. Grabbing the shirt from behind her and keeping her eyes on Rachel, Brooke folded it quickly, still in silence, then strode across the store and hopped up onto the counter next to her friend.

"Am I right?" Rachel asked, smirking. Brooke just flipped her off and rolled her eyes again, biting her tongue and opting for a silent denial. Rachel just laughed.

A few minutes later, though, Brooke finally spoke. "Lucas and I are fine," she said, nodding, "He's been sweet lately, and loving. It's nice." She didn't look at Rachel, instead focusing on the street and absently thinking about her boyfriend.

"Mmhmm," Rachel said, nodding, paying about as much attention as a student in a boring class would. She examined her fingernails.

Brooke essentially ignored her friend's less-than-enthused answer. It was almost as if she was talking out loud to herself, listening to her own thoughts; Rachel was forgotten. "But really," Brooke said, her tone changing slightly, "I don't know sometimes about him." She said it as if it was a subconscious thought, one that she had never really considered before, that was only now coming to the surface. "He gets so intimate sometimes, so lovey-dovey and close and romantic and all about our love and everything. It's all we talk about."

"And that's a bad thing?" Rachel asked, looking up. So apparently she had been listening. "Most girls would love it if their boyfriend was like Lucas."

Brooke shook her head. "Of course it's not a bad thing; I just feel that sometimes we're only close in the romantic way." Rachel started to protest, but Brooke cut her off. "Really, it doesn't feel like we have the depth to our relationship that we used to have. Like there is no friendship involved, just endless "I love you's." And I do love him, without a doubt, but I want something more." She had slipped into talking to herself again, saying her thoughts out loud in attempt to clear her head. Rachel listened, gazing at the floor intently.

"But Lucas obviously loves you," the redhead said as Brooke paused in her speech, "It's not like your relationship is going to crash and burn because you feel that you don't have as good a friendship with him as you used to."

"See, that's the thing." She took a deep breath, then continued with a firm voice. "Relationships and even marriages fall apart all the time because people get too caught up in the initial romance of it all. If that's all Lucas and I have, what's going to happen when it fades?" Her thoughts trailed off into silence, and for a few moments nothing was heard in the empty store.

Rachel finally sighed, and it seemed thunderously loud after the complete silence. "Why are you thinking about this now?" she asked, "What prompted this whole idea of 'not having a friendship with Lucas?'" At long last, she seemed concerned and invested in the conversation, and that was more of a relief that Brooke could have imagined.

"Ever since the hospital, it almost seems like he's been pulling away, and I feel that lack of friendship more than ever now." It seemed strange, how quickly the tone of the conversation had swung from laughing and teasing to Brooke's insecurities. She almost laughed, thinking about it.

Rachel sighed again, finally out of questions. She laid back on the countertop, thinking. "Well, what are you going to do?" asked the redhead blankly.

Brooke laid back on the counter as well, sighing exactly as Rachel had. They sat like that for a long moment, in silence once more.

"I don't know," Brooke finally decided, quietly. "I have to go talk to Peyton."

* * *

Haley could have sworn when she walked into her house that afternoon that the smell that met her at the door was some form of burning food. Vegetables, maybe? Perhaps cheese. Running water, the hissing stove and the loud clanking of dishes blared from the kitchen. Maybe her husband and son were just cleaning up.

At least, she hoped that was all it was as she shut the door behind her and walked forward.

"Nathan?"

Nathan's head poked around the corner. "Hey, Hales. Jamie and I just made dinner for you." Despite the calmness of his voice, Nathan had that distinct, wild-eyed look of someone who had absolutely no clue what he was doing. Haley got the feeling that her return home may have been the source of his panic; she laughed and smiled at him, silent appreciation, silent thanks. He smiled back. "So, um, why don't you just go and sit at the table and we'll bring the food out?"

She nodded, still pleasantly surprised but slightly wary. "Thanks, Nate." As she thanked him, a warm smile spread over her face: her boys had cooked dinner. How sweet of them.

* * *

Haley hadn't believed it possible to make a brick out of macaroni, but there it was, on her plate. Somehow the cheese (which had been the burning smell that met her when she'd walked in) had bonded the macaroni together into one inedible mass. She stared at it in mild disbelief for a second, then looked up at Nathan and Jamie: they were eyeing their food with an expression of upmost distaste on their faces. Hoping against hope that the burnt cheese might suddenly thin out and supply them with an actual edible dinner, Haley decided on conversation to pass the time.

"So, Nathan, what's the occasion? The kitchen isn't exactly your area of expertise," she teased.

Nathan tore his eyes away from the food and adopted a more casual attitude. He poked at the yellow lump on his plate carelessly. "Well, Jamie and I—"

"Hey, don't bring me into this," Jamie interrupted, his wide eyes still glued to his dinner. He watched it warily, as if it were from another planet and it might suddenly leap up and attack him. Haley laughed at Jamie throwing Nathan under the bus so quickly, then turned back to her husband to see his reaction. He watched Jamie, looking a little shocked and mildly amused, as if he had just taken a pie to the face.

"Ok," he said after a minute, "_I_ decided to make you dinner because it's a sort of celebration that you're recording again. We cleaned the kitchen too."

"Oh, thank you Nathan," Haley said, smiling. "That's sweet." Her face was warm and sunny, and she felt like leaning over and kissing him, and Jamie. She tried to lean back in her chair to see the kitchen, but Nathan caught her shoulder and pulled her back to the table. Haley turned around to face him, the sunny feeling gone and confusion taking it's place. Nathan shook his head.

"You didn't let me finish. I said we cleaned the kitchen, but then we made dinner. You don't want to see the kitchen anymore."

Haley's smile abruptly dropped from her face. "Oh," she said, nodding slowly. "Uh…ok then." Nathan sat back, relieved, letting out a long breath. Haley laughed a little, raising one eyebrow at her two boys. That was her Nathan and Jamie.

* * *

"So, tell us about the recording," Nathan said a few minutes later. It was obvious the macaroni was not ever going to be eaten; they had dropped it into the garbage can, where it landed with a loud 'clunk', then they had dusted their hands and called for pizza. The three of them sat on the couch, with Jamie on Haley's lap. Nathan waited expectantly, and Jamie even squirmed a little, and suddenly Haley couldn't say anything about the recording session.

"Well," She paused for a long moment, not meeting her husband's eyes, then decided on, "It was decent, but nothing really came of it. Peyton said it would take a lot of work for a demo and everything, so we talked about it and we're still kinda deciding whether or not to go through with it." She nodded and shrugged at the same time.

It wasn't that she wanted to lie to Nathan and Jamie; usually she hated it. But with music, she was reviving a part of herself that had lain dormant for so long and had some bad memories associated with it. It was almost a guilty feeling, the way she felt about music. And, of course, she was nervous about getting back into recording again, so therefore a part of her was shying away from it. Her subconscious mind would come up with excuses such as 'It's been too long' or 'You're fine without it', subconscious excuses that she would soon find herself repeating in her conscious mind and eventually accepting as truths. And Haley knew that Nathan would dispel whatever doubts she had of herself, but it was easier to just keep the doubts and stay in her normal life. So, if she had an excuse out of music, she didn't have to leave the comfort zone again, despite her love for recording and singing. And she'd take the life she had now any day. A bird in the hands, as the saying went.

"Really?" Nathan asked, rubbing his chin. "It'd be too hard?" His brow furrowed, and he examined a spot on the wall as if trying to figure a solution from it. Haley waited impatiently for him to agree with her and for them to forget about the music thing. Then Nathan turned his eyes back to her. "So there was no CD, no song, nothing?"

Haley shook her head. "Nope," she said simply, giving a little shrug. "Oh well."

Nathan stared at her. "So no song at all, huh?"

"No, there wasn't any song," she said, a little more firmly. She felt the hot weight of the guilt, considering the CD of the basic song she'd recorded was in her purse. She resolved to hide it as soon as Nathan wasn't looking. Seeming not to notice her guilt, Nathan frowned and furrowed his brow.

"That's interesting. Especially because Peyton called me as soon as you left Tric to say that you did have a song, and that you were just lying. So let's see it, Haley James."

Haley kept the swear words in her mouth and instead muttered to herself, "I knew I sold my soul," as she got up and went into the hallway. Nathan smirked and high fived Jamie in the short space of time that she was gone, and both boys resumed their quiet smirks as soon as Haley came back into the living room. She carried a silver disc in one hand, and a simmering glare on her face. Indignantly, and with Nathan near laughter in the background, Haley strode across the room and slid the disc into the stereo. The first strains of the song, her song, started to fill the air as she fell back onto the couch between Nathan and Jamie.

Jamie squirmed into her lap again, and Haley held him close, almost like a little stuffed animal that she hugged for comfort. She looked slightly anxious in the way her shoulders hunched ever so slightly and worry lines on her face. Nathan clapped a hand on her knee and rubbed her leg in a comforting gesture.

"So, you wouldn't tell us about this because…?"

"Just because," she shrugged. She wasn't even sure herself. "I guess—" Haley took a deep breath and faced Nathan on the couch with a new look of resolve in her eye. She was going to say this no matter what. "It's just a big thing for me to get back into music, and there are so many things that I worry about. Truthfully, it'd almost be easier to just forget about music and stay like this, with you and Jamie. And I guess some part of me figured that if I dismissed the song, that I'd dismiss the music and I could forget about it."

The song played in the background, and for a long moment it was the only sound in the house as Nathan contemplated what his wife had said. His hand tapped barely with the beat of the music, and he stared at the stereo. Then he looked back at her. "You know, Hales, usually I'd let you do what you wish. You could give up almost anything, as long as you're happy, and I'd be perfectly ok with it. But I sit here and listen to this song, and I can't let you just 'dismiss' music. You went in there and did this song at the drop of a dime, and this is what came of it. The song is great, and so is your potential. It's your dream. So no, you can't just forget about it."

Her voice rang out from the stereo, the final verse of the song. Then there was a guitar and piano, then just the piano. Then the music faded, and the house was left in a surprisingly loud silence. It felt as if someone needed to talk, like it was required just to fill the void of sound. "Well," Nathan said, examining his fingernails with an air of confidence before he looked up at her, "You look like you're feeling pretty guilty. May I ask why?" The infamous Nathan Scott crooked half-smile was on his face, with one innocent eyebrow raised, so Haley wasn't entirely sure if he was joking or not.

"I just—"

"Wrote a damn good song, even if you didn't want to tell us," he finished for her with a slow nod. Then the half smile became a full and bright one, embracing Haley instead of shining a spotlight on her. "Didn't I tell you this morning that Jamie and I are going to be there every step of the way? That includes the demo CD's, Hales. So nice try, but we're still going to hear it."

Jamie suddenly felt the need to pipe up. "And you sing really good, Momma!"

Hadn't Haley just been thinking about how much she loved her two boys? Now here they were, supporting her when she had no idea what to do. A sudden rush of warm gratitude poured through her, making her smile. It reflected in Nathan's eyes, and he smiled as well. It was what she loved to do, and she wanted to be a musician. She'd grown up wanting to do this, and now the two people she loved most were behind her. The pure joy must have shined in her face.

"And I proudly present," said Nathan softly, "Haley James-Scott, singer and songwriter."

* * *

_And there you go. I'd like to point out that this chapter takes place on the same day as the last chapter, the Sunday after the first playoff game. So, not a lot of time has passed. Also, the next chapter will take place on the same day as well. And, if you are missing BL, no worries; they are essentially the entire next chapter :D_

_If you liked it, you know what to do! :D_

_--Chandler_


	27. Chapter 27

_Newest update! This chapter takes place the same day as the previous three chapters. So Peyton just found out about Brooke and Lucas in New York, etc._

_Anyways, leave a review at the end!_

* * *

Brooke turned off the engine of her car in the middle of Peyton's driveway. Technically, it was still Brooke's driveway, as well as her house, but she had left it in Peyton's care since she had been living with Lucas. It wasn't hurting anyone, since Brooke owned the house and had plenty of money, and Peyton needed a place to stay. Plus, Brooke figured she got major karma points out of the deal, so it all worked out.

With a sort of happy sigh, she grabbed the CD that Rachel had asked her to return to Peyton and climbed out into the last bright rays of the five o'clock sun before heading up the walk to the house. Knowing Peyton would probably have the music on in her room, Brooke just threw the front door open and walked in.

She looked past the entryway and the living room, her eye immediately attracted to the open kitchen. Peyton was there at the table…with Lucas.

Peyton was at the head of the table, Lucas on her right; he had turned the chair so that he faced her directly. His hands were extended over the table, like he had been holding hers when Brooke walked in, and even as the brunette met Lucas's suddenly uncomfortable gaze she watched him lean away from Peyton, increasing the distance between them whereas he had been inches from her face before. Both Lucas and Peyton were flushed and breathless, beaming at each other and Brooke, laughing slightly as if they had just climbed off an amazing roller coaster. Watching her boyfriend, Brooke saw that Lucas's eyes, which had been so bright and clear when he was looking at Peyton before they registered Brooke was there, suddenly clouded with something like anxiousness when he saw his girlfriend.

Brooke froze, surprised. "Hi…boyfriend," she said, unsteadily. She watched Lucas and Peyton exchange a fleeting glance, their smiles flickering, then turn their eyes back to her. "I didn't know you'd be here." Then she faltered for a split-second before catching herself and matching their warm, sunny smiles. Her grin looked almost convincing, save for her clouded eyes. What was her boyfriend doing at Peyton's house? Usually Lucas told her everything, and not knowing that he was going to see his ex-girlfriend set Brooke on edge.

Slowly, Lucas half-rose from his chair. He was on guard, watching for any signs of a negative reaction. They definitely were in tender territory. "Hey, Brooke. I was just on a walk and had to talk to Peyton about something." Peyton cheerily bobbed her head from the table, as if confirming Lucas's story. He smiled at Brooke, unsteadily, inviting her to tell him why she was here. In answer, Brooke held up the CD and looked at Peyton.

"Rachel. She borrowed this," said the brunette, "and I had to talk to you about…" Brooke faltered again and her eyes flicked to Lucas then back to Peyton. She continued, in a slightly more confident tone, "About what Victoria was talking about earlier, so Rachel asked if I could drop this off." She finished with a half-hearted shrug and pursed her lips. She didn't want to get into what had happened at Clothes over Bros with Lucas there. Plus, there were more important things going on. Like the obvious atmosphere between Lucas and Peyton, and how Brooke's sudden appearance had somehow ruined it. Maybe it was old memories resurfacing, paranoia, but Brooke wanted to know what had been going on in the minute before she'd walked in.

"Sure," Peyton responded absently, her gaze fixed on a spot on the wall. She was daydreaming about something. Brooke didn't have any time to even look at her, because by that point Lucas had hurried from the table and over to the brunette, taking her in his arms in a quick hug of greeting. Peyton watched the blonde for a long moment, then suddenly she snapped out of her trance. "Call me later, ok?" she asked. She smiled up at the couple from her seat at the table. Brooke started to answer, but then she realized Peyton had been talking to Lucas.

"I will, Peyt," he promised with a little nod. Brooke's gaze snapped up at him, confused and slightly cold; her brow furrowed and she bit back her questions. For now. But Lucas barely noticed, his eyes like the clear blue sky outside as he smiled and switched his gaze to meet Brooke's clouded face. "You ready to go?"

Brooke instantly wiped the cold look off her face. "Yeah." She paused. "Do you need a ride home, or are you going to walk again?" She sincerely hoped the words had no biting edge to them, but honestly couldn't be entirely sure.

"I think I'll just ride home with you," he replied, again with that absent tone. Peyton had grabbed the CD and skipped into the bedroom, probably to reorganize it with her mass collection, leaving them alone near the door. Grabbing his jacket, Lucas added, "And when we get home, let's go out to dinner. I have reservations to a restaurant, if you want."

Taken aback, Brooke laughed quietly and agreed to the date. "Fancy or casual? And should I have the ambulance on call?"

Grinning brighter than Brooke had, Lucas replied easily, "How about we swing by your store and grab a dress from there that you can wear? You'd look beautiful. And about the ambulance—" He grinned again, "—Call them up. I have a feeling I might need it."

Peyton reappeared from the bedroom, still all smiles and slightly breathless, the same as Lucas. "Heading out?" she asked, absently picking up dishes and coffee mugs from around the kitchen and throwing them a glance every few steps.

"Yeah," Brooke said quickly. She hated this feeling; not knowing, being unsure, and not wanting to jump to conclusions. It felt almost like she was underwater, and she didn't know which way was up. If she swam the wrong way, it would almost make things worse. But if she didn't swim at all, she would almost certainly drown. Indecision, playing along, hesitating, the ambiguity of the moment. The new girl who doesn't know if people were making fun of her or not, the one that plays along and smiles and laughs to mask her uncertainty.

Lucas's answer was firmer, but more relaxed. "We're just going out to dinner." From the smile Peyton shot Lucas, Brooke figured they had already talked about it. But before she could even react, Lucas had not pulled her a little tighter and turned to the door.

"I'll talk to you later, ok P. Sawyer? We have to talk about Clothes over Bros today," Brooke called over her shoulder as Lucas pulled open the door.

She heard Peyton's warm voice. "Sounds good. Call me within the next few days, if you have time." She grinned again, and it was somewhere between a grin and a smirk. Even though she had seemed angry that morning at the store, it seemed to Brooke that Peyton was completely happy and content now. It was as if she knew something that Brooke didn't. What was going on? Then the door shut on Peyton and the sunny house, and Brooke and Lucas strode through the quickly falling twilight and to her car. Whenever his clear sky blue eyes were on her, Brooke smiled; when he looked away, the clouds rolled in with all the ominous feelings of an impending thunderstorm.

* * *

She entered the bar in her usual fashion: head back, dark red hair tossed carelessly over her shoulder, hips swaying in only the slightest motion. She could count on one hand how many bars she had entered without this strut. It was relaxed, confident; it made her seem approachable but at the same time displayed just enough coldness to make any guy think before striking up a conversation with her or buying her a drink. Usually by the end of the night only the guys that she was interested in would have the confidence to talk to her, and by then she got her pick, which was the whole point of her strut.

But tonight, she had no idea why she was doing it. Rachel supposed the walk was like a reflex, because she was almost certain there was nobody she planned on impressing that night. At least, she didn't think so. Despite her being in a bar, her 'no sex' vow still stood, and she was going to hold true to that. However, the thoughts slipped from her mind as she slid into a bar seat and threw her purse on the counter, full of poise, admiring the way the slinky black dress she had put on before coming to the bar slid up her leg. Rachel almost wished the seats were further back, away from the counter, so at least Owen could see her legs. From across the bar, she watched him, waiting.

Within thirty seconds, Owen was strolling up to her, his smile half-cocked. Rachel grinned back. "Geez, haven't seen you here for a while," he said, leaning on the counter to talk to her, "I thought I scared you off a few weeks ago. I was almost to the point of missing you."

Rachel snorted in response. "Don't lie," she said, "You missed me. Everyone does. Just consider yourself lucky that the new bar downtown closed, or else you never would have seen me again."

Owen smiled. "Actually, I don't consider myself that lucky. The bartender downtown sucked, I'm so much better. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you came back to Tric." Pausing, he waited for her to roll her eyes, which she did, then leaned toward her in a much more businesslike fashion. "Now, what'll you have? It's on the house."

After just a moment's consideration, Rachel said, "A Dark and Stormy." She didn't want to throw her 'no drinking, no sex,' rule completely to the wind, so she decided to add to it: _I can drink if someone buys it for me,_ she told herself with a grin.

Owen nodded appreciatively and turned to fix up the drink. With his back to her, he said, "So where did you run off to that night, and where have you been since?"

Now there was a question that warranted a story. Rachel thought back on that night: the call, the hospital, Lucas with his near-heart attack, everyone crowded into one room for seven hours, until five AM when they had finally left to let Brooke and Lucas get some sleep. But she really wasn't up for a full story session, so Rachel decided to keep it simple. "Just…there was stuff going on with Brooke that night, she needed some help, some support." Understatement of the year. "And since then we've been working on a new line for her company." She left everything else out.

Luckily, Owen didn't need anymore elaboration. With a flourish only a bartender could pull off, he turned and slid Rachel's drink across the dark countertop, the ice cubes clinking in the dark orange liquid. She grinned appreciatively at him, the closest Rachel usually got to a thank you.

As she took a careful sip, Owen leaned on the bar again, looking thoughtful. "Brooke Davis. I haven't seen her for a while, how's she been?"

Rachel almost choked on her drink. After a few hard swallows, she said, "I was busy helping her, and I didn't even do anything. Imagine how busy _she's _been." Owen chuckled quietly, but didn't say anything. Rachel continued, "We finished the line just today, and she's celebrating with Lucas tonight. They're on a date."

"Lucas? The blonde one, who owns this place?" Mild shock rang in his voice; since he had been working at Tric and first met Brooke, she had seen her interact with Lucas maybe once. And even then Lucas was with someone else.

"That's him," Rachel said. She leaned back in her chair slightly, into a more comfortable pose, and fingered the rim of her glass as they talked. Owen's face was still somewhat shocked, even though he was doing his best to regain his composure. "Brooke and Lucas were together back in high school," she added, for explanation, "then he hooked up with Peyton a month or so before graduation, and was with her for the next year after. Then he almost married Lindsey, but she broke it off because of Peyton, and now Brooke and Lucas are back together." She finished the last end in a rush and sucked in a deep breath: just telling the damn story was tiring.

While she was talking, both of Owen's eyebrows went up. "Damn. Sounds messy."

Rachel finished the end of her drink. "Believe me, it is." She put the glass back down and Owen took it immediately. "And that's the super-abridged version," she added with a nod. "The full version has many more catfights, a few fistfights, way too many tears and even a hangover or two."

"Damn," he repeated. "Thank god I didn't go to Tree Hill High." He shook his head, wide eyed. Rachel laughed as he turned back around to face her again, this time with a more serious expression on his face. "What about you, how have you been?" There was that quiet curiosity again as he focused on her, with serious brown eyes and that half-cocked smile.

Almost unconsciously, she shifted in her seat, but she doubted he even saw her tiny movement when he didn't react. She laughed, although nothing was particularly funny, tossing her hair over her shoulder, smiling and looking down the bar. "Don't you have customers waiting? I'm sure they're getting pretty pissed off right now." With her eyes, she pointed to the group of thirty somethings at the other end of the bar, the ones with empty glasses and beer bottles around them. Most of the noise was coming from that area. Owen slid his eyes to where she was pointing.

He snorted. "Nah, they're too drunk. I guarantee you one of them will try to drink one of those empty glasses any seconds now." They watched, and as if on cue, a shorter, muscled guy reached for a bottle and had to turn it upside down to make sure it was in fact empty. Rachel burst out laughing, echoed by Owen. "I told you. Just let them digest their last drinks before I go give them more." He paused, then added, "Besides, it's way more interesting to talk to you. So how have you been?"

Well, he wasn't getting any story tonight, even if she'd had a story to tell. "Besides _busy_, I've been fine." Suddenly, she was tired. Not drop-dead, bone tired; just tired, weary. She supposed it was partly the topic of conversation, so she didn't tell him anything else.

"How'd that thing ever work out with your friend Mouth?"

"It worked out fine: Mouth is back together with Millicent, which is good, and I'm single again. Which can be good or bad, depending on how you look at it." Her answer was short and spoken with barely any emotion.

Despite her lackluster reply, Owen leaned back with a knowing smile. Rachel looked at him questioningly, confused, until he said, "So _that's _why you're drinking tonight. You're single."

Sarcasm filled her voice. "Oh, ha, ha," she sneered at him. Changing to a much more serious, proper tone, she added, "I'm actually not drinking anymore. I'm not even going to have another drink tonight." Owen shook his head, turning around again, but she caught glimpses of his smile and rolled her eyes—he thought she was kidding—but she couldn't help a smile of her own spreading over her face.

Much more quickly than he had before, Owen turned with a new glass in his hand. "Well," he said, shrugging apologetically, "That sucks, because I made this Red Bull and Vodka just for you. On the house, again. What are you going to do about that?" he challenged with a smirk.

But Rachel was stubborn as hell when she wanted to be. "No thanks," she said sweetly, leaning back on the bar stool again.

"Then I'm just going to leave it here," Owen replied with the snarkiest grin, and set the glass in front of her. "It's free for whoever wants it." Rachel's cool demeanor didn't even seem to ripple; it was a game they were playing, seeing who would give in first. She wasn't exactly a stranger to it, it had happened all the time in New York: most of the free drinks that Rachel received were from games like this. The only difference tonight was that she was trying desperately not to drink, and Owen was making that increasingly more difficult for her. She simply wanted to keep her pride tonight.

That lasted for all of about five seconds. _What the hell, I've given into temptation before, _Rachel thought to herself. Deftly, she grabbed the glass and downed half of it, avoiding Owen's eyes to escape his smug look.

"I knew it," he said, laughing, teasing. He knew the game they were playing as well. Rachel smiled, still holding the cold drink. It was one of her first real smiles that she'd had in a while. "I knew I could get you to give in. Now, will that be your last one?" The question was a joke, naturally. They both knew the answer.

"The night is young," Rachel replied with a discreet shrug, biting her tongue and grinning at Owen.

_It would be a good night.

* * *

  
_

"So, how do you like this place?" Lucas asked, leaning in close to Brooke and whispering so he wouldn't disturb the ambiance of the fancy restaurant where they sat waiting and talking. "Not too bad, huh?"

Brooke gave him a small smile and leaned in as well. "I'm just glad we actually got to the restaurant this time, without having to call an ambulance," she said, shrugging. Lucas made a hurt face, and Brooke winked and looked around. The new restaurant really was nice and romantic: Table cloths and centerpieces on all the tables, canvas paintings on the wall, soft lighting that seemed to give off a golden glow. Lucas had heard about the place from a friend and decided to surprise Brooke with a nice dinner out. Once they had left Peyton's, they had swung past C over B, where Brooke had grabbed her favorite dress—a pretty red one that reached just above her knees. Her hair was done up in a sort of bun, a style that had taken a miraculously short amount of time. Lucas wore a sport coat and button up blue shirt, his usual.

After another relatively long silence in a series of long silences, Lucas leaned in again. He kept his voice low, although it wasn't necessary: from their dark, secluded corner of the restaurant, Brooke and Lucas wouldn't be disturbing anyone. "You look beautiful tonight, you know that?" he said abruptly, but softly, then laughed a sort of short, quiet laugh, as if amazed and awed. Brooke's eyes flicked up towards him, then off to the side again. It was almost cold and aloof, though, instead of the shy, girly flirting technique that she was so noted for.

"Thanks," she said, her mouth forming a purse-lipped smile as she looked at him again, then she went back to examining the drinks menu. For a moment, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Lucas's hand reach for hers, but he instead pulled it off the table and out of sight. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Lucas, what's my favorite feeling in the world?"

Lucas laughed again, louder and clearer and less nervous than before. Brooke stared, not joking, and suddenly Lucas stopped laughing. "W-what are you talking about, Pretty Girl?"

Without answering, Brooke fired off another question: "Do you know how I fractured my index finger in sophomore year?" Taken aback by the brusqueness of her voice, Lucas stuttered and faltered. She watched him, and Lucas was unable to look away from her.

"Brooke," he said after a moment, "What's wrong?" Concern filled his voice, bringing a certain hardness to it that wasn't covered by the return of his nervous laugh. _What's going on with her? _Lucas asked himself, intently watching Brooke's face with his brow furrowed. It was a nice night, the look and feel and ambience of the restaurant was perfect, everything was working out so far…yet Brooke's eyes still resembled a sky with a storm rolling in. When she stayed silent, Lucas again prompted, "Brooke?"

Nothing. Her shoulders slumped, she fell against the backrest of the chair, shifting her gaze away from him and closing her mouth disappointedly. A touch of agitation colored his vision.

"Brooke, what—" he began indignantly.

"Nothing, Luke," Brooke sighed, even though her mood, which had taken a total nosedive in just two minutes, told him it was the complete opposite of nothing. "Can we go home, please? I'm not hungry anymore, really."

_What? _Lucas had to take a moment to compose himself after that. There was a definite tightness in his response, and a touch of fear and anxiety as well: The night was not going at all as he had planned, and if he didn't save it soon, it was sure to crash. "Brooke, we can't leave now, we've already ordered. But that doesn't matter. What's got you so pissed off? Talk to me."

Emotion, anger, jumped back to her face as she looked at him in total disbelief. "Just leave it, Lucas." She shook her head, biting her lip in frustration and looking away again. Lucas was utterly bewildered; no matter what he tried to do, Brooke was still mad, and he couldn't understand why. He waited for her to say something, until he realized she was searching through her purse.

"Brooke!" he said again, more forcefully, before looking around and lowering his voice. "Brooke, calm down, let's talk about this…"

"Talk about what?" She ran a hand through her chocolate locks, pushing them back and releasing a deep, angry sigh. Her eyes, full of fire, were focused on anything but him: the wall, the other tables, the softly burning candle in the center of their table. He tried to get her to look at him, but to no avail.

"We can try to fix whatever is bugging you," he said, in a lame attempt to try and get Brooke to meet his eyes. It had the desired effect, he supposed: Brooke's head whipped around to look at him, brow furrowed and eyes pure disbelief, like she couldn't understand why he wasn't getting it. Wasn't understanding her. Then, for an instant, he spotted defeat behind the fire in her eyes, and he softened. "Brooke—"

But she just glared once more, and in a flash of scarlet dress and silver jewelry, Brooke was out of her seat and storming across the restaurant, past tables, and out the double French door entrance.

She never even looked back.

_She left. She's gone. _Lucas couldn't even move. Full of roiling emotions— fear, confusion, anger— all he could do was sit there and stare after her, stare at the door she had disappeared through as if she might suddenly come back. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and minutes into hours as his subconscious tried to make sense of what the hell was going on. Brooke had gotten mad, for whatever reason, and just…walked away. Painfully, he was reminded of the past, how she had walked away then too. What the hell was he supposed to do?

As an answer, his legs jumped to life, and Lucas bolted from his seat. Hadn't he regretted it in senior year when he hadn't gone after her back then? Of course he had, although he didn't realize it. Grabbing the nearest waiter and crushing a few twenties into his hand, he said quickly, "Hey, here's a collateral. We'll be right back, just a second." Then the blonde walked as hastily as he could across the room and flew out the door. He hit the pavement with his head swiveling, eyes searching.

Even though March had just begun a week ago, the air outside the restaurant felt as if it were a balmy Tree Hill summer night: warm, but somehow refreshingly cool, the weather right before the storm clouds roll in. Stars dotted the cloudless sky, and a smooth, soft wind tugged gently at tree branches along the street. All the shops down the boulevard were dark. Everything quiet, peaceful, all shades dark blue. The kind of night that made you smile and inhale and taste the air and feel the night.

But Lucas couldn't do that. In fact, he didn't even register the beauty or feel the wind: All he could focus on was the red spot that was moving rapidly away from him, down the dark sidewalk of Second Street.

"Brooke!" he shouted in vain, knowing that simply his shouting wasn't going to stop her. It never had. Instantly, he set off at a sprint, and reached her before Brooke had gone another twenty yards. Lucas caught her arm and spun her around, gently but with a firm determination, to face him, but he was surprised to see tears sparkling in her eyes. The anger died in his throat, and instead he choked out a strangled, incredulous, "Brooke?"

But her voice was steady. "I'm just going home, Lucas," she said, looking anywhere but straight up into his concerned, worried sky-blue eyes. Despite seeing her tears, which were rapidly being blinked away, Lucas was calmed by the strength in her voice. The incredulity faded to a mild disbelief. A touch of the previous anger and shock came back, but Lucas was careful to keep himself in check. He let go of her arms and gestured back to the restaurant.

"Brooke, come back inside. We'll talk about it—"

"Talk about what?" She pressed a hand to her forehead, suddenly looking tired, then ran her fingers through her hair and let another angry sigh out. Lucas stood with nervous impatience and willed her to look up at him so they cold lock gazes. All he needed was a gage on her emotions. He needed to know what was running through her mind, to lessen his own confusion and perhaps talk to her. Anything that could tell them why they were standing on a deserted sidewalk when they were supposed to be having the dinner he had planned out.

She did look up at him, and in that moment Lucas wished he could have looked away. Brooke's eyes were cold and remote behind the film of tears, not letting him in, pushing him away, and for what? Why? She wouldn't let him know what was going on, and he couldn't figure it out. Now, looking in her eyes, all Lucas felt was a deep guilt settling in the bottom of his stomach like cement, rooting him to the sidewalk, constricting his breathing. He needed to fix this, but he didn't know how. He didn't even know what was wrong. All he could do was calm her down, tell him what was wrong.

"We'll talk about what happened back there," he said softly, whispering into the dark night, "About why you're mad."

Brooke still stood there in the center of the sidewalk, lightning flashing from her eyes, her arms crossed over her red dress. "I'm not going back in there," she said, "I'll pay, but then I'm going home." Her tone was defiant, and she straightened her back and stiffened her shoulders, eyeing him and waiting for his response.

But Lucas could be just as stubborn as his girlfriend when he wanted to. "Fine, we'll talk here," he said mulishly. Then he crossed his arms as well. "Tell me what's wrong." It wasn't a question, or even a request. It was a demand.

Unexpected to Lucas, she folded. Completely. Her arms fell from her sides, her mouth dropped from its stubborn line, she tore her eyes away from his face to refocus on the street again. "What about the fact that the only things we talk about are how happy we are to be together, or when we talk about things that happened when we were apart that day? You don't know things about me, and I don't know about you." She took a deep breath, not even considering Lucas's taken aback face as she looked at him and then back at the street. "When was the last time we had a meaningful conversation, Lucas? About us, about our friendship, about anything?"

"Brooke, I don't—"

The air crackled with all the electricity of an impending thunderstorm. "You don't know, do you? I miss talking to you about things that actually_ matter, _besides just our relationship and how great it is to be together and how much you've missed me."

Her voice was soft but pleading, and Lucas easily detected the edge; he was instantly on the defensive. "We do talk, and I love being with you!" he said, raising his voice in desperation. Fear was bubbling up in him, he recognized this feeling, this situation. _Don't let it happen again, don't let it happen again…_

"There you go again!" She said it as if she were pleading with him to understand. Pushing her hair back and turning towards the street again, she said, "God, Luke, this feels just like last time. I don't want to lose you again because we don't talk!" Brooke's voice swelled to a near shout at the end, and Lucas could hear the accusation.

He fired back, getting angry but keeping his voice low to prevent this argument from escalating. "You didn't lose me the first time—You left me, remember?" He glared, remembering the pain of that night. He'd never even had a chance.

"Because you pushed me away!" she shouted, incredulous that he would even say something like that. The wind kicked up in that moment, suddenly harsh and bitter, yanking the stray strands of Brooke's hair up around her head.

Lucas grit his teeth, shaking his head in an effort to stay calm. "You couldn't take getting close to me because you were so unsure of yourself!" His voice rose again in anger, past normal volume. Why was Brooke doing this? He was getting more and more pissed off at her with each passing second that she yelled at him, every incredulous look. None of this was his fault. "What the hell was I supposed to do?"

"You could have done so much, Lucas," she said, narrowing her eyes, "but you didn't even try!" How could he not realize why she had left that night?

The fact that they were in public didn't matter anymore; Lucas and Brooke were in a full-blown fight. Lucas had gone from defensive against her attacks to incensed and fighting back, not even thinking, just reacting. He no longer cared about defusing the bomb, talking Brooke down. He had to fight back. Back in high school, there had been moments like this. Arguments, shouting. More than just the time in the rain, there had been times when something stupid had escalated into an argument, and then into a shouting match, all because they clashed over something simple. Now he was just yelling at her, and she back at him. "It wasn't my fault that you don't trust me and open up to me!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air, "I love you!"

"You made me that way, Luke!" Tears gathered in the corners of Brooke's eyes, and she had to fight them back. She stepped forward, towards him, gritting her teeth. "It took _everything_ for me to trust you after the first time, then look what happened!"

Lucas gestured around at the empty street. "And look where we are now!" Lucas was on autopilot, not hearing himself, firing back at Brooke without a second thought.

Tears fogged her eyes, threatening to fall. God, why did this have to happen now? Tears were for the weak, and she couldn't afford to be weak right now. She couldn't be vulnerable, so she settled on fury. "Exactly!" she shouted back, blinking away tears and narrowing her eyes. "Look where we are now! I saw you beaming with Peyton this afternoon, and I realized we don't even have that, and now we're here!" She shouted into his face. The tears fell in her thunder.

"Well then maybe I will just go back to Peyton, at least she's not so damn insecure!" Lucas roared, over the rushing in his ears.

All emotion died in Brooke's face, in her eyes. She took an infinitesimally small step backwards, closing her mouth and swallowing the next thing she had been ready to scream at Lucas. Her arms hung limply at her sides, her shoulders slumped. Her face had become completely blank in half an instant, like a raging sea suddenly devoid of crashing waves. But through all of it, her eyes were the worst; they settled on Lucas and stayed there, her gaze speaking volumes and displaying half a million different emotions at once, from sadness to shock. She blinked, once, twice, three times. Disbelief, fear, betrayal, accusation. Sadness. A tear fell: she didn't care about being weak anymore.

She just looked utterly, heartbrokenly, completely defeated.

Lucas's heart constricted at what he had just said, at her reaction, but he found no possible way to take it back. There was nothing that could make it right, no words that he could use to fix it, and everything would make it worse. All he could do was stand and watch his pretty girl crumble, at his hands. Because of what he had just said.

Then Brooke gave him one last look, one miniscule, disbelieving shake of her head, and she turned on one heel and simply left. The night was silent save for the clicking of her red heels on the sidewalk, but even that faded quickly as she disappeared around the corner to her car. Then she was gone.

His feet carried him back to the restaurant without Lucas even realizing it. With each step he took, all he heard was the echo of the last thing he had shouted at her. _So damn insecure…so damn insecure…Back to Peyton… _When he got back inside the restaurant, the mood of the place felt cheesy and overworked. Romance? How could something like this still be here after what had happened outside? Then their table was in sight, where they had been happily enjoying each other just moments ago. Now Brooke was gone, mad at him...No. She wasn't mad, he knew that much. He had seen it in her eyes. Brooke was just vulnerable and helpless and disappointed, and he had let her walk away.

Lucas fell heavily into the chair, then set his elbow on the table and rested is head on it, not thinking about anything, yet everything seemed to be running through his mind. He watched the candle sputter weakly in its holder, before finally flickering out. Then the waiter's voice suddenly interrupted the steady stream of Lucas's thoughts.

"Do you still need the table, sir?" the waiter asked, placing the bills Lucas had handed him back on the table. "Will your date be back?"

What a question. Lucas looked to her chair, then to the door with a shake of his head. "No," he sighed, not feeling, "She's gone."

* * *

_Please don't hate me! I'll leave it at that. Expect mucho de drama for the next chapter!_

_Also, the next update of Himerus and Eros should be up by Wednesday. So assume like, Friday._

_Again, don't hate me for this! Leave a review, they are made of love.  
_


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